reat many things I'll miss when we
go back to Sweden," Maria said thoughtfully, as she settled back in the
seat, enjoying the smooth, powerful ride of Ken's souped-up car.

Ken shot a quick glance at her. He felt a sudden sense of loss, as if he
had not realized before that their acquaintance was strictly temporary.
"I guess a lot of people here will miss the Larsens, too," he said
quietly. "What will you miss most of all?"

"The bigness of everything," said Maria. "The hundreds and hundreds of
miles of open country. The schoolboys with cars to cover the distance.
At home, a grown man is fortunate to have one. Papa had a very hard time
owning one."

"Why don't you persuade him to stay here? Mayfield's a darn good place
to live."

"I've tried already, but he says that when a man is grown he has too
many things to hold him to the place he's always known. He has promised,
however, to let me come back if I want to, after I finish the university
at home."

"That would be nice." Ken turned away, keeping his eyes intently on the
road. There was nothing else he could say.

He drove slowly up the long grade of College Avenue. His family lived in
an older house a block below the brow of College Hill. It gave a
pleasant view of the entire expanse of the valley in which Mayfield was
situated. The houses of the town ranged themselves in neat, orderly rows
below, and spread out on the other side of the business section. In the
distance, north and south, were the small farms where hay and dairy
stock and truck crops had been raised since pioneer times.

"I'll miss this, too," said Maria. "It's beautiful."

Ken wasn't listening to her, however. The car had begun to sputter
painfully as it took the curve leading off the avenue to Linwood Street
where Ken lived. He glanced at the heat indicator. The needle was almost
at the boiling point.

"For Pete's sake! The water must have leaked out of the radiator."

Ken pulled the car to the curb in front of the house and got out,
leaving the engine idling. He raised the hood and cautiously turned the
radiator cap with his handkerchief. A cloud of steam shot out, but when
he lifted the cap the water was not quite boiling, and there was plenty
of it.

Maria came up beside him. "Is something wrong?"

"You've got me there. The radiator's clean. The pump isn't more than two
months old. I checked the timing last Saturday. Something's gone sour to
make her heat up like that."

From acro