A VERY CIVIL ENGINEER
When her cousin and the young man came near enough, Janice saw that Mr.
Bowman was a good-looking person in countenance as well as in figure.
He had very blue eyes and very pink cheeks, without being at all
effeminate in appearance. His light hair he wore pompadour and brushed
up straight over his forehead.
He wore his clothes differently, too, from anybody Janice had seen
about Polktown. Even Nelson Haley, the school teacher, did not boast
garments of such cut and quality--nor Mr. Middler, the minister.
Marty banged down the gasoline can with a satisfied air and said, in
his off-hand way:
“Say, Janice! this is Frank Bowman I was telling you about. He can run
an ortermobile. Can’t you, Frank?”
“Good-day, Miss Janice,” said the young civil engineer, lifting his hat.
Janice could have shaken Marty for not properly introducing the young
man. The careless introduction had given Mr. Bowman the advantage of
calling her by her first name right at the start, and Janice felt that
she would like to be “really grown up” in her association with this new
acquaintance.
“I am afraid Marty overrates my ability as a mechanician,” the young
civil engineer continued. “There are some automobiles, I believe, that
not even their manufacturers can make run properly. But these Kremlins
are very good machines. I have a friend in New York who has one and I
have often driven it. I believe you have made a wise selection for this
hilly country.”
“I am sure I know very little about it,” said Janice, smiling. “I have
always believed that cars were like typewriters, or bicycles, or--or
physicians and ministers! Every one stands up for his own particular
possession in all those lines, you know.”
“That is so, too,” agreed Frank Bowman, with a laugh. “At any rate, you
will be an enthusiastic admirer of this Kremlin car, I am sure; and I
shall be a partizan myself. Marty says you have no idea how to run it?”
“I am a regular ignoramus,” admitted Janice. “If--if I’d known Daddy
was going to surprise me with such a very wonderful gift, I would have
gone to Middletown, or somewhere where there is a garage, and have
taken lessons in running the car.”
“Say, you ain’t got a license, either, Janice,” said Marty suddenly.
“They’ll pinch you, mebbe, if you drive it around here without one.”
“Don’t try to scare your cousin, Mart,” said the young man
good-naturedly. “That’s easily remedied, for sure. As I happen to have
a license myself, I’ll drive the car home for you--if you will permit
me, Miss Janice?”
“My goodness! ain’t that just what I’ve been telling you she wants?”
demanded the boy. “You folks are eaten up with politeness!”
Marty’s boyish and characteristic outburst put Janice and young Bowman
immediately at their ease. Two young people who have laughed heartily
together cannot remain strangers.
Frank Bowman stripped off his coat and went to work. The gasoline tank
was filled and also the water radiator and the oil box, and he tried
out the various parts of the mechanism that could be observed while the
car stood still. Something might have become jarred since the car left
the factory, and as this very civil engineer said:
“We want to go through Polktown with colors flying. It would be too bad
to have a mishap--say about in front of Massey’s drug store--and have
all the town gather around and make derisive comments.”
Janice laughed at this, and watched his skillful hands as he went about
what seemed to her and Marty a very mysterious task. But the car had
been tried out just before it left the salesrooms of the company, and
nothing had happened to the mechanism in transit. It seemed to be in
perfect condition.
The self-starter acted promptly, and when Marty heard the engine whir
and buzz, he tore off his cap, threw it into the air, and cheered.
“Hurrah! that’s the bulliest sound I’ve heard in a long time! Crackey!”
cried the young barbarian, “won’t we scare the hosses and hens into
fits along these old roads? Say, Frank! you’ll teach me to run it, too,
won’t you?”
“You’ll have to fix that with your cousin,” laughed the young civil
engineer. “I am going to teach her, if she will allow me, first of all.
Get in, Miss Janice. I believe we shall be able to make Hillside Avenue
in fine style.”
“Hold on!” cried Marty. “Don’t leave a feller behind,” and he pulled
open the door of the tonneau and jumped in. “I only hope we meet Walky
Dexter. I’d like to see if that old crow-bait of his could be scared
into a show of life for once.”
“Mercy, Marty!” said Janice. “Don’t hope for such perfectly horrid
things to happen. I want to have a good time with this car; but I don’t
want anybody else to have a bad time because of it.”
Marty chuckled. “What do you suppose will happen if you ever meet the
Hammett Twins on the road with their old Ginger?”
“Nothing will happen. I shall stop the car and lead poor Ginger around
it, of course,” declared Janice, laughing.
Frank Bowman slipped the clutch into low gear. The car jarred, lurched
forward, and slowly and smoothly rolled out of the shed.
Most of the spectators had departed, save some small boys. They yelled
at Marty, sitting proudly in the tonneau; he was too excited to answer
their gibes.
Gradually, but quickly, so as to save the engine, Frank slipped the
clutch to higher speed--then highest. The automobile rolled easily off
the dock and into the principal street of Polktown.
The car took the hill smoothly and without trouble for the engine.
Janice was delighted. Her eyes shone; the little tendrils of hair about
her brow were tossed by the breeze; the pink in her cheeks deepened.
Everybody on the street stopped to watch the novel sight; but perhaps
they looked as much at Janice and Frank as they did at the shiny
Kremlin car.
“Hullo!” exclaimed Marty. “Here comes Nelse Haley.”
Janice did not hear. The young schoolmaster came out of a side street
and stopped, amazed to see Janice Day beside a very fine-looking young
man, driving up High Street in an automobile!
Nelson Haley considered himself Janice Day’s nearest and dearest
friend. He felt a little stab of jealousy to see her in the new car
with this stranger. And she did not notice him!
It was from the bystanders that the teacher obtained his first
information regarding the ownership of the new car. He had no means of
knowing that the present was a surprise to Janice.
It seemed odd that she had said nothing about expecting the automobile.
And to let this strange fellow run it for her!
Nelson Haley could not drive an automobile himself; just the same
he felt a little hurt. When Janice had spent the money Mr. Day sent
her to help Lottie Drugg, she had told Nelson all about it, and
he had sympathized with her, and admired her all the more for her
unselfishness.
He wondered who the young fellow was who drove the new machine, and he
asked questions. A young man from out of Polktown would be likely to
interest Janice Day, Nelson believed. He felt chagrined that he had
never learned to drive a car.
The conversation that went on between Frank Bowman and Janice as the
car rolled smoothly up the hilly streets, might have troubled Nelson
Haley, too; but all that was said came as a matter of course.
“Your car runs very nicely, Miss Janice,” Frank Bowman observed.
“Oh! I’d love to handle it as you do,” cried the girl. “I’m afraid it
will be like a balky horse for me until I have a lot of experience.”
“If you let me give you a few lessons in my spare time, I will
guarantee you will run it as well as I do,” laughed Frank. “I’d be glad
to lend you my small experience.”
“Oh, Mr. Bowman! I couldn’t take your time.”
“Only some of my leisure,” he hastened to say. “It will keep me out of
mischief. You know the old saw about ‘idle hands’?”
“And would you really be getting into mischief?” asked Janice, with
mock seriousness.
“Like enough,” returned Frank, with twinkling eyes. “This Polktown
place is such a wicked and reckless town. Wait till my sister sees it!
She will want to pack up and leave after the first day. In fact, I tell
her she’ll never unpack her trunk when she once sees the place.”
“Oh! have you a sister? And is she coming here?” cried Janice eagerly.
“So she says. Annette has just been ‘finished’ (Frank made a little
grimace over the word) at a fancy boarding school. We’re orphans, you
know. She is determined to come here and live with me. She’s several
years younger than I am; but she feels it her sisterly duty to oversee
my bachelor existence.”
“You’ll love to have her with you,” Janice said confidently.
“Oh, Annette’s a good kid,” said the civil engineer carelessly. “But
she’ll be bored to death here in a week, and will go down to our
relatives in New York. She was not made for a rural life, I assure you.”
“And you do not take much delight in country places, either?” suggested
Janice slily. “You look down upon our simple pleasures.”
“Well, if the ‘simple pleasures’ you speak of include driving a nice
little car like this,” laughed Frank Bowman, “I don’t think there is
much to complain of.”
After a while he added: “I shan’t have much idle time on my hands. I
am laying out the route for the new branch of the V. C., you know.
And when my reports are ratified at headquarters, I hope to go ahead
and build the bridges and trestles necessary to bring the line into
Polktown.
“It will be something of a job, and I shall be around Polktown for a
long time. I thought it would be ‘poky,’ like its name,” and Bowman
laughed. “But I find there are some very interesting people here.” He
looked sideways at Janice. “Surely this beautiful car is an interest
I did not expect. You must let me teach you what I know about running
it,” he reiterated.
“Thank you,” said Janice demurely. “If Aunt ’Mira is willing, you may.
And I am grateful enough for your driving us home, I assure you!”
“Oh, this mustn’t count as a lesson,” laughed Bowman. “You haven’t
learned anything yet.”
But Janice thought she had. She had learned considerable about this
very civil engineer, and what she had learned piqued her interest in
him.
Perhaps his sister, too, would prove to be pleasant. A girl right from
boarding school might stir the sluggish pool of Polktown society--bring
modern ideas and new thoughts into the place.
There was still room for progress in Polktown along these lines, as
Janice very well knew. She was interested in Frank Bowman; but much
more so in the coming of his sister, Annette.