"Sorry, Mr. Patterson, we haven't a telephone yet," stammered Bob. "I think Uncle Joe'll put one in though when he gets back from his wedding. You see, he's getting married to-day." "I know he is," said the agent grinning. "That's why we brought the tractor out to-day. We wanted to have a good chance when your uncle wasn't home. When he gets back with his bride, we're going to show him what power can do to a farm." "Well, I'll take the car," said Mr. White, "and drive over to the Wallace farm and use their 'phone. You see, Bob, we're going to have a little party on your farm. We're going to sort of take possession of the place and have invited some of your neighbors to see the tractor work." "All right," said Bob. "I'll try it out myself, but if I smash this thing, it won't be my fault." "Don't worry about smashing it, Bob. Just give her kerosene and keep her going," said the agent. After the first round or two, Bob became confident of his ability to handle the tractor, and began to realize how quickly and easily plowing could be done by power. He noticed Mr. White drive back to the barnyard, and as soon as Mr. Patterson had finished with the team, he unhitched them and took them over and put them into the barn, then they sat down in the auto and began to talk, leaving Bob to manage the tractor alone. When dinner time came he brought the machine to a standstill on the west side of the field nearest to the barn, and, shutting down the motor, came quickly over the freshly plowed ground to the barnyard. "That's certainly a fine way to plow, Mr. White," said Bob, his eyes sparkling as he contemplated the amount of work done in a quarter of a day. "Sure is, Bob," said the banker. "The greatest thing I've ever seen. Power certainly does beat horse flesh, and you notice, Bob, we only feed the engine when it is working." "I can't give you very much of a dinner," said Bob, apologetically, "for everybody's away at Uncle Joe's wedding, but if you'll be satisfied with cold victuals, I guess I can fit you out." "Bread and butter and a glass of milk is good enough for me, Bob," laughed the banker, as they started for the house. Bob's grandmother had left him well supplied with food--several apple pies, a boiled ham and a weekly baking of bread had been finished the day before. She had also left the fire in the kitchen stove and the tea-kettle on, so it didn't take Bob very long to make a pot of coffee. He brought some butter and milk from the milk cellar and they were soon enjoying the simple food.