forced to turn his head sharply away when he passed the
village tobacco store, for every nerve cried out for the solace of a
good pipe, but he felt more than repaid for the sacrifice by Lou's
honest rapture over the poor things he had been able to get for her.

Breakfast finished, and the remainder of the ham stowed away in the
milk-pan, they carefully skirted the house on the rise of the hill, and
coming out once more upon the road, they forged ahead. The strained
muscles of Jim's back and side were still sore, but they troubled him
less than the lack of a smoke, and for Lou it was as though a new world
had opened before her eyes.

The pleasant, wheat-growing valley had been left behind them, and the
road from being hilly grew steeper and more steep until it became a mere
rutted trail over the mountains. More or less dilapidated farm-houses,
each with its patch of cleared ground, appeared now and then, and before
the gate of one of these a huge, canvas-covered wagon stood, bearing the
ambitious legend:

TRAVELING DEPARTMENT STORE

BENJ. PERKINS

A genial-looking fat man in a linen duster and a wide-brimmed hat was
just clambering in over the wheel when he spied the two pedestrians
gazing at the turnout, and called good-naturedly:

"Want a lift? I'm goin' inter New Hartz."

"Thanks. That is just where we are going, too," Jim replied promptly.
"It's awfully good of you to take us along."

"Git right in; plenty of room with me on the front seat here," the
proprietor of the extraordinary department store responded heartily.
"Yer sister 'd be nigh tuckered out ef you tried ter walk her inter town
on a hot day like this."

Jim hoisted Lou in over the big wheel and as he climbed up beside her
the driver slapped the reins over the broad backs of the two horses, and
they were off.

"You are Mr. Perkins?" Jim asked, ignoring the assumption of Lou's
relationship to him.

"That's me!" The other glanced at the fresh bandage about the young
man's head which Lou had applied just before they started out, and
inquired: "You git hurt, some ways?"

Jim explained briefly, and changed the subject with a haste which would
have been significant to a less obtuse host.

"You seem to have a little of everything back here in the van, Mr.
Perkins."

"Reckon I hev," the other agreed complacently. "From a spool of thread
to a pitchfork, and from a baby rattle to wax funeral wreaths, there
ain't nothin' the folk hereabout hev use