"Who was that outside?" asked Dad.
"Oh, some fellow asking the directions to Highway 13."
"I suppose you told him to take the next fork to the left, then turn right at Perkin's general store," said Dad.
"Why, of course, Dad," said Mother. "That's the way to go, isn't it?"
"No," said Dad.
She turned and put her hands on her hips. "Now, Dad, you know very well that is the way to Highway 13."
"Usually," agreed Dad. "But it's closed now. Under repair. If he takes it, he'll be axle-deep in sand inside a quarter mile."
"Oh, dear, I forgot about that," said Mother, anxiety showing itself on her face.
"Don't worry about it," said Dad. "If he does get stuck, he'll come walking back here, and I can make five dollars pulling him out with the tractor."
"You know you won't do any such thing," declared Mother. "You never charged anybody yet for pulling them out. Land sakes, you want Joe to think you're a highwayman?"