Si ran out of the house and came down to the road, yelling and waving a club. Janice had reduced speed and was picking her way between the frightened creatures as best she could.
“Go on! go on!” the Elder was yelling. “Drat the critters! they’ll stop us.”
“Sit down, sir, do!” begged Janice. “You’ll be out of the car.”
“Dern my hide!” bawled old Si. “I’ll have the law on ye—scarin’ my cattle. I ain’t surprised none that they arrested ye in Polktown an’ had ye up before the Jestice of the Peace, you Day gal! I’ll sue aout a warrant for ye myself—— Good Land o’ Daybreak, Elder! Be that yeou?”
“Don’t you git in my way, Si Littlefield!” cried the Elder. “If you do, it’ll be the sorriest day of your life. We’re in a hurry. I gotter get to the bank quick.”
Janice, saying nothing, had worked the car through the huddle of frightened animals. They raced a calf for ten rods farther, then the roar of the exhaust sent the creature fairly into the ditch and they were free of the whole herd.
Had they looked back they would have seen Si Littlefield pulling his long beard, standing like a stock in the roadway, gazing after the wonder of Elder Concannon riding in one of those “devil wagons” that he had talked so wildly against.
“Goodness me!” the Elder groaned, after a minute, and when the car was purring along again on high speed, “whatever will I say to these people? I dunno, Janice Day, but if I save my money, it’s goin’ to cost me dear in other ways.”
“You’re going to save your money,” returned Janice, with a glance at the clock. “We’ve half an hour yet, and we’re more than half way to Middletown.”
“I hope so,” said the old gentleman, with fervor.