smooth turf as so many cows in a bog.

'Pest!' cried Pirolo angrily. 'We are ground-circuited. And it is my own
system of ground-circuits too! I know the pull.'

'Good evening,' said a girl's voice from the verandah. 'Oh, I'm sorry!
We've locked up. Wait a minute.'

We heard the click of a switch, and almost fell forward as the currents
round our knees were withdrawn.

The girl laughed, and laid aside her knitting. An old-fashioned
Controller stood at her elbow, which she reversed from time to time, and
we could hear the snort and clank of the obedient cultivator half a mile
away, behind the guardian woods.

'Come in and sit down,' she said. 'I'm only playing a plough. Dad's
gone to Chicago to--Ah! Then it was _your_ call I heard just now!'

She had caught sight of Arnott's Board uniform, leaped to the switch,
and turned it full on.

We were checked, gasping, waist-deep in current this time, three yards
from the verandah.

'We only want to know what's the matter with Illinois,' said De Forest
placidly.

'Then hadn't you better go to Chicago and find out?' she answered.
'There's nothing wrong here. We own ourselves.'