"Yes, my team has seed gas wagons and gas houses afore," sneered the farmer, "but they hain't used to a hull pack of skeer crows in one crowd. When we put a skeer crow in a corn field, one's all we make. Some damned fools make a dozen and put 'em all in one automobile. If you'll all get out and hide, my team will go by your ole benzine tank."
Hot and dusty, the party halted in front of a hotel. The village was larger and more prosperous than any yet visited.
A number of men were threshing grain a few hundred yards away, the steam threshing machine attracting farmers from all the country about. One a peculiar man, more refined appearing than the others, had once been a college professor; overstudy had partially unbalanced his reason. He was versed in the classics. He took an especial interest in Alfred.
Bill Joseph is the luckiest man that ever tapped a slot machine. When traveling he often steps off the train while it halts at a depot and pulls his expenses out of a slot machine. On this day he was unusually lucky. The hotel had a varied assortment of drop-a-nickle-in-the-slot devices. Joe tapped them in a row. The hotel people looked upon him with suspicion. But when he carried the winnings into the bar, ordering the hotel man to slake the thirsts of the threshers, they were sort of reconciled. The old college professor, unlike the others, demanded something stronger than beer. His neighbors, who evidently had him in charge, endeavored to persuade him to go home.
On the Crowd Cheered
"Wait! Hold a minute. I want to talk to this man Field. He is a scientific man. His father laid the Atlantic cable. His family is noted the world over. I want to talk to him. The Field family are noted scientists."
One of those who seemed most intimate with the professor was an old soldier, very deaf.
"What did you say his name was?" he inquired.
"Field," replied the professor. "F-i-e-l-d."