“Hulda, you stay right where you are. Shame on you, wasting valuable time on a tricky pedler. What do you suppose I pay you wages for?”
“Oh, mam. I ban long tam want....”
“That will do. That will do. I don’t want any of your saucy talk. You are paid to do the housework, so get at it.” She turned on me.
“Get off these premises at once. You may be able to swindle these ignorant foreigners, but you can’t impose on me. Go now, or I’ll call the constable. The very idea, crowding yourself right into people’s homes, talking to their servants, impudent....”
She was still raving as I passed out of hearing. The day was very warm. I was dusty and tired and hungry. Aimlessly I followed the street till it terminated in a country road and finally sank down by the roadside, too weary and disheartened to think clearly.
I was roused by the sound of pattering hoofs and glancing up, saw a team of grey Indian ponies, attached to a light buckboard, come scampering around a curve. They shied sharply at sight of my recumbent figure, reared and tried to break into a run. Their driver drew them in with masterly skill, and circling through the weeds and brush, returned to learn the cause of the fracas. She was a tall, strong woman, with an aquiline nose and iron grey hair. The smile with which she greeted me as I approached the wagon was very winning.
“Is there something the matter? Are you ill or hurt?” she inquired, leaning toward me with kindling eyes.
“No, just tired and a bit blue, I guess. It didn’t seem worth while to walk any more, so I dropped right down here.”
“Pardon me, but aren’t you a stranger to these parts? I don’t recall seeing you before. In these little towns we generally know every one, at least by sight.”
“Yes, I arrived only a couple of hours ago, but I know this town pretty well already.”