Stuart slept under the canoe that night. He awakened¹ at four to find that the rain had stopped.

The day would break clear. Already the birds were beginning to stir and make bright sounds in the branches overhead. Stuart never let a bird pass without looking to see if it was Margalo.

At the edge of the town he found a filling station and stopped to take on some gas.

“Five, please,” said Stuart to the attendant.

The man looked at the tiny automobile² in amazement³.

“Five what?” he asked.

“Five drops,” said Stuart. But the man

shook his head and said that he couldn’t sell such a small amount of gas.

“Why can’t you?” demanded Stuart. “You need the money and I need the gas. Why can’t we work something out between us?”

The filling station man went inside and came back with a medicine dropper. Stuart unscrewed the cap of the tank and the man put in five drops of gasoline. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” he said.

“Better look at the oil, too,” said Stuart.

After everything had been checked and the money had been paid, Stuart climbed in, started the engine, and drove out onto the highway. The sky was growing brighter, and along the river the mists of morning hung in the early light. The village was still asleep. Stuart’s car purred along smoothly⁴. Stuart felt refreshed and glad to be on the move again.

Half a mile out of town the road forked. One road seemed to go off toward the west, the other road continued north. Stuart drew up to the side of the northbound road and got out to look the situation over. To his surprise he discovered that there was a man sitting in the ditch, leaning against a signpost. The man wore spurs on his legs. He also wore a heavy leather belt, and Stuart realized that he must be a repairman for the telephone company.

“Good morning,” said Stuart in a friendly voice. The repairman raised one hand to his head in a salute⁵. Stuart sat down in the ditch beside him and breathed deeply of the fresh, sweet air. “It’s going to be a fine day,” he observed.

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