Jim hoisted Lou in over the big wheel and as he climbed up beside her the driver slapped the reins over the broad backs of the two horses, and they were off. "You are Mr. Perkins?" Jim asked, ignoring the assumption of Lou's relationship to him. "That's me!" The other glanced at the fresh bandage about the young man's head which Lou had applied just before they started out, and inquired: "You git hurt, some ways?" Jim explained briefly, and changed the subject with a haste which would have been significant to a less obtuse host. "You seem to have a little of everything back here in the van, Mr. Perkins." "Reckon I hev," the other agreed complacently. "From a spool of thread to a pitchfork, and from a baby rattle to wax funeral wreaths, there ain't nothin' the folk hereabout hev use for that I don't carry. The big ottermobile order trucks don't hurt my business none; I ben workin' up my trade around here fer twenty year." Mr. Perkins paused to draw a pipe and tobacco sack from his pocket, and Jim's throat twitched. After filling the pipe the genial pedler offered the sack. "Hev some?" Jim hesitated, and his face reddened, but at last he shook his head determinedly. "Thanks; I--I don't smoke." Lou, who had hunched about in her seat to stare at the assorted array of articles in the body of the van, turned and looked curiously at him. Surely that hard bulge in the coat upon which she had slept on the previous night had been the bowl of a pipe! The eyes which Jim had called "violet blue" narrowed for an instant in puzzled wonderment, then blurred as with swift understanding she glanced down at the new pink apron and stroked it softly. But Jim had gone on talking rather nervously. "You don't get much trade around here, do you? Not many houses in these mountains." "Oh, here and thar," Mr. Perkins replied easily. "Here and thar." The conversation which ensued was all Greek to Lou, who took off her hat, leaned her head against the side of the van, and went peacefully to sleep. She was awakened by a hand gently shaking her shoulder and found that the van had been halted in the middle of a maple-lined street before a big house which bore a sign labeled: "Congress Hotel." Busy little shops shouldered it on either side, and a band-stand stood in the open square. "Come down, Lou." Jim stood on the sidewalk reaching up for her hands. "This is New Hartz." Mr. Perkins was not in the van, but as Lou scrambled over the wheel he appeared from the door of the hotel. "Young man, I wish I was goin' further, but I ain't, and I want ter talk a little business with you." He drew Jim aside. "You and your sister wouldn't ha' ben walkin' it in from Hudsonvale if you could ha' paid ter come any other way." "No, Mr. Perkins." Jim backed away smilingly. "We couldn't think of--of borrowing, but thanks for the ten-mile lift into New Hartz."