"Then, from away off in the stillness would come a drawn-out 'Honk! honk!' like a wild goose with the asthma, and pretty soon up the road would come sailin' a big red automobile, loaded to the guards with goggles and grandeur, and whiz past the hotel in a hurricane of dust and smell. Then all hands would set up and look interested, and Bill would wink acrost at his chum and drawl:
"'That's the way to get over the country! Why, a horse isn't one--two--three with that! Cap'n Wixon, I'm surprised that a sportin' man like you hasn't bought one of those things long afore this.'
"For the next twenty minutes there wouldn't be any dullness.
Jonadab would take care of that. He'd have the floor and be givin' his opinions of autos and them that owned and run 'em. And between the drops of his language shower you'd see them boarders nudgin' each other and rockin' back and forth contented and joyful.
"It always worked. No matter what time of day or night, all you had to say was 'auto' and Cap'n Jonadab would sail up out of his chair like one of them hot-air balloons the youngsters nowadays have on Fourth of July. And he wouldn't come down till he was empty of remarks, nuther. You never see a man get so red faced and eloquent.
"It wa'n't because he couldn't afford one himself. I know that's the usual reason for them kind of ascensions, but 'twa'n't his.
No, sir! the summer hotel business has put a considerable number of dollars in Jonadab's hands, and the said hands are like a patent rat trap, a mighty sight easier to get into than out of. He could have bought three automobiles if he'd wanted to, but he didn't want to. And the reason he didn't was named Tobias Loveland and lived over to Orham."
"I know Tobias," interrupted Captain Bailey Stitt.
"Course you do," continued Barzilla. "So does Sol, I guess. Well, anyhow, Tobias and Cap'n Jonadab never did hitch. When they was boys together at school they was always rowin' and fightin', and when they grew up to be thirty and courted the same girl--ten years younger than either of 'em, she was--twa'n't much better. Neither of 'em got her, as a matter of fact; she married a tin peddler named Bassett over to Hyannis. But both cal'lated they would have won if t'other hadn't been in the race, and consequently they loved each other with a love that passed understandin'. Tobias had got well to do in the cranberry-raisin' line and drove a fast horse.
Jonadab, durin' the last prosperous year or two, had bought what he thought was some horse, likewise. They met on the road one day last spring and trotted alongside one another for a mile. At the end of that mile Jonadab's craft's jib boom was just astern of Tobias's rudder. Inside of that week the Cap'n had swapped his horse for one with a two-thirty record, and the next time they met Tobias was left with a beautiful, but dusty, view of Jonadab's back hair. So HE bought a new horse. And that was the beginnin'.
"It went along that way for twelve months. Fust one feller's nag would come home freighted with perspiration and glory, and then t'other's. One week Jonadab would be so bloated with horse pride that he couldn't find room for his vittles, and the next he'd be out in the stable growlin' 'cause it cost so much for hay to stuff an old hide rack that wa'n't fit to put in a museum. At last it got so that neither one could find a better horse on the Cape, and the two they had was practically an even match. I begun to have hopes that the foolishness was over. And then the tin peddler's widow drifts in to upset the whole calabash.
"She made port at Orham fust, this Henrietta Bassett did, and the style she slung killed every female Goliath in the Orham sewin' circle dead. Seems her husband that was had been an inventor, as a sort of side line to peddlin' tinware, and all to once he invented somethin' that worked. He made money--nobody knew how much, though all hands had a guess--and pretty soon afterwards he made a will and Henrietta a widow. She'd been livin' in New York, so she said, and had come back to revisit the scenes of her childhood. She was a mighty well-preserved woman--artificial preservatives, I cal'late, like some kinds of tomatter ketchup--and her comin' stirred Orham way down to the burnt places on the bottom of the kettle."
"I guess I remember HER, too," put in Captain Bailey.
"Say!" queried Mr. Wingate snappishly, "do you want to tell about her? If you do, why--"
"Belay, both of you!" ordered the depot master. "Heave ahead, Barzilla."
"The news of her got over to Wellmouth, and me and Jonadab heard of it. He was some subject to widows--most widower men are, I guess--but he didn't develop no alarmin' symptoms in this case and never even hinted that he'd like to see his old girl. Fact is, his newest horse trade had showed that it was afraid of automobiles, and he was beginnin' to get rabid along that line. Then come that afternoon when him and me was out drivin' together, and we-- Well, I'll have to tell you about that.
"We was over on the long stretch of wood road between Trumet and Denboro, nice hard macadam, the mare--her name was Celia, but Jonadab had re-christened her Bay Queen after a boat he used to own--skimmin' along at a smooth, easy gait, when, lo and behold you! we rounds a turn and there ahead of us is a light, rubber-tired wagon with a man and woman on the seat of it. I heard Jonadab give a kind of snort.
"'What's the matter?' says I.
"'Nothin',' says he, between his teeth. 'Only, if I ain't some mistaken, that's Tobe Loveland's rig. Wonder if he's got his spunk with him? The Queen's feelin' her oats to-day, and I cal'late I can show him a few things.'
"'Rubbish!' says I, disgusted. 'Don't be foolish, Jonadab. I don't know nothin' about his spunk, but I do know there's a woman with him. 'Tain't likely he'll want to race you when he's got a passenger aboard.'
"'Oh, I don't know!' says he. 'I've got you, Barzilla; so 'twill be two and two. Let's heave alongside and see.'
"So he clucked to the Queen, and in a jiffy we was astern of t'other rig. Loveland looked back over his shoulder.
