The drives seem but half as long as before, thanks to the superior speed of the horses and the pleasant banter of Mr. Adams, who is a most interesting conversationalist. The man is a wonderful study. He often starts to speak of some personal experience and breaks off in the middle of the first sentence. He never has given me the least hint of his earlier life, but I feel sure that he is a college man. There must be some mystery in his life. I spoke of my beliefs to Dan. He replied, “The only mystery that I see is that he is falling in love with you, and that’s not much of a mystery either. Honey-drips sees how the wind blows and loves you like a rattlesnake.” I indignantly denied the allegation, for Mr. Adams’ conduct had been exemplary. But Dan refused to retract his unjust words, so I determined to keep my opinions to myself. TWELVE _July 12th, 1908_, SYDNEY, NEBRASKA. TWELVE _July 12, 1908. Sydney, Nebraska._ We had worked a small town a half day’s drive east of Sydney, where pressing business awaited Mr. Adams’ immediate attention. Dan had a number of sign orders to fill and Mrs. Adams some culinary duties to perform, so it came about that Mr. Adams and I drove ahead with the buckboard, leaving the others to finish their tasks and follow. We rose early and began our journey as the rose and opal tints of dawn were disappearing in the mounting flood of sunlight. The air was cool and bracing and the horses cavorted with delight as we spun past the scattering outposts of the village and took the white, winding road across the western plain. Mr. Adams set me down at the edge of town and headed for the express and telegraph office, while I prepared for peddling. He was out of sight before I realised that we had not touched the lunch that was in the buckboard, although it was after one o’clock. I hadn’t a cent with me, for I had put all the money available into an order for special goods, which Mr. Adams was going to send east. Making change might prove awkward at first, but I could only do my best. I selected the most prosperous street and set resolutely to work. At the first three houses the inmates refused to open the door, although I could see them peering at me from within. “Nothing to-day,” exclaimed the fourth housewife before I could open my mouth. I was growing very thirsty and as I walked up a flower-bordered path to a vine-covered veranda, I decided to ask for a drink of water without mentioning my wares. A sharp-nosed woman answered my ring. “Please, madam, could I trouble you for a drink of water?” I asked. “You can’t play any of your tricks on me,” she replied spitefully, slamming the door in my face.