"Americans?" Daddy said harshly, watching the sheriff go. "We're
folks without a country."

"May as well give the young-ones some of the grub we bought,"
Grandpa said patiently.

It was while they were hungrily munching the dry bread and cheese
that another car came upon them and with it another swift change
in their changing life.

Two young women stepped out of the chirpy Ford sedan. Neither of
them looked like Her, nor even Her No. II--yet Jimmie whispered
excitedly to Rose-Ellen, "I bet you a nickel they're Christian
Centerers!"

And they were. Sent by the churches, like the Center workers in
the cranberries, in the peas and in Cissy's onions, they went out
through the country to help the people who needed them. The
sheriff, it seemed, had told them about the Beechams when he met
them a few minutes ago.

First they looked in at Grandma, still asleep with the Seth
Thomas ticking beside her. "Why, I've heard of you from Miss
Pinkerton," said one young woman. "She said you were the kind of
people who deserved a better chance. Maybe I can help you get
one." Then they talked long and earnestly with Grandpa and
Daddy.

Grandpa had flapped his hands at the children and said,