"There's lots of little handles and things ter turn, an' there's some
things you do with your feet. Colonel Smith did."

The name Smith to Phineas was like a match to gunpowder. He flamed
instantly into wrath.

"Well, I cal'late what Colonel Smith does, I can," he snapped.
"Besides"--airily--"mebbe I shan't git the feet kind, anyhow; I want the
best. There's as much as four or five kinds, Jim Blair says, an' I
cal'late ter try 'em all."

"Oh-h!" breathed Diantha, falling back in her chair with an ecstatic
sigh. "Oh, Phineas, won't it be grand!" And Phineas, seeing the joyous
light in her eyes, gazed straight down a vista of happiness that led to
wedding bells and bliss.

Phineas was gone some time on his Boston trip. When he returned he
looked thin and worried. He started nervously at trivial noises, and his
eyes showed a furtive restlessness that quickly caused remark.

"Why, Phineas, you don't look well!" Diantha exclaimed when she saw him.

"Well? Oh, I'm well."

"An' did you buy it--that autymobile?"

"I did." Phineas's voice was triumphant. Diantha's eyes sparkled.

"Where is it?" she demanded.