Before the ecstatic rapture in Diantha’s face Phineas went down in defeat. Without one word he turned away--but in his heart he registered a solemn vow: he, too, would have an automobile; he, too, would make Diantha wish to ride on and on forever!
Arduous days came then to Phineas. Phineas was not a rich man. He had enough for his modest wants, but until now those wants had not included an automobile--until now he had not known that Diantha wished to fly. All through the autumn and winter Phineas pinched and economized until he had lopped off all of the luxuries and most of the pleasures of living. Even then it is doubtful if he would have accomplished his purpose had he not, in the spring, fallen heir to a modest legacy of a few thousand dollars. The news of his good fortune was not two hours old when he sought Diantha.
“I cal’late mebbe I’ll be gettin’ me one o’ them ’ere autymobiles this spring,” he said, as if casually filling a pause in the conversation.
“Phineas!”
At the awed joy in Diantha’s voice the man’s heart glowed within him. This one moment of triumph was worth all the long miserable winter with its butterless bread and tobaccoless pipes. But he carefully hid his joy when he spoke.
“Yes,” he said nonchalantly. “I’m goin’ ter Boston next week ter pick one out. I cal’late on gettin’ a purty good one.”
“Oh, Phineas! But how--how you goin’ ter run it?”
Phineas’s chin came up.
“Run it!” he scoffed. “Well, I hain’t had no trouble yet steerin’ a hoss, an’ I cal’late I won’t have any more steerin’ a mess o’ senseless metal what hain’t got no eyes ter be seein’ things an’ gittin’ scared! I don’t worry none ‘bout runnin’ it.”
“But, Phineas, it ain’t all steerin’,” ventured Diantha, timidly. “There’s lots of little handles and things ter turn, an’ there’s some things you do with your feet. Colonel Smith did.”