“An’ did you try ’em all, as you said you would?”
Phineas stirred; then he sighed.
“Well, I dunno,” he acknowledged. “I hain’t done nothin’ but ride in ’em since I went down--I know that. But there’s such a powerful lot of ’em, Dianthy; an’ when they found out I wanted one, they all took hold an’ showed off their best p’ints--’demonstatin’,’ they called it. They raced me up hill an’ down hill, an’ scooted me round corners till I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t have a minute ter myself. An’ they went fast, Dianthy-powerful fast. I ain’t real sure yet that I’m breathin’ natural.”
“But it must have been grand, Phineas! I should have loved it!”
“Oh, it was, ’course!” assured Phineas, hastily.
“An’ you’ll take me ter ride, right away?” If Phineas hesitated it was for only a moment.
“‘Course,” he promised. “Er--there’s a man, he’s comin’ with it, an’ he’s goin’ ter stay a little, jest ter--ter make sure everything’s all right. After he goes I’ll come. An’ ye want ter be ready--I’ll show ye a thing or two!” he finished with a swagger that was meant to hide the shake in his voice.
In due time the man and the automobile arrived, but Diantha did not have her ride at once. It must have taken some time to make sure that “everything was all right,” for the man stayed many days, and while he was there, of course Phineas was occupied with him. Colonel Smith was unkind enough to observe that he hoped it was taking Phineas Hopkins long enough to learn to run the thing; but his remark did not reach Diantha’s ears. She knew only that Phineas, together with the man and the automobile, started off early every morning for some unfrequented road, and did not return until night.
There came a day, however, when the man left town, and not twenty-four hours later, Phineas, with a gleaming thing of paint and polish, stood at Diantha’s door.
“Now ain’t that pretty,” quavered Diantha excitedly. “Ain’t that awful pretty!”