"I—I don't know how!" moaned the voice. "How do you stop it?"
"Good gracious sakes alive! Is—is it you, Eva?"
"Oh, Anderson! Thank goodness! I thought you was a highwayman. Oh, dear—oh, dear! Ain't there any way to stop this thing?"
"Shut off the power, an' it'll stop when you start up the grade."
Anderson was trotting along behind, tugging at one of the mud-guards.
"How do you shut it off?"
"The same way you turned it on."
"Goodness, what a fool way to do things!"
The little car came to a stop on the rise of the grade, and Anderson side-stepped just in time to avoid being bumped into as it started back again, released.
"It's Deacon Rank's car," explained Mrs. Crow in response to a series of bewildered, rapid-fire questions from her husband. "He offered to sell it to me for fifty dollars, and I've been learnin' how to run it for two whole days—out in Peters' Mill lane."