Mr. Billers gazed down the roadway for a long time. Then he sighed, with the air of one whose patience has been long tried.

“Must be somethin’ the matter with my ears,” he muttered, and drove on.

At this moment a luxurious sedan swept around a corner and drew up close behind the wagon. There was a chauffeur at the wheel and he sounded his horn impatiently, for the road was narrow and he was unable to get past.

Lem Billers smiled darkly to himself and paid no attention.

“There it goes again,” he grumbled. “I must be hearin’ things. Hang me if I’ll turn out any more when there ain’t no car there to turn out for.”

The wagon continued in the center of the road. The chauffeur of the car glared at Lem Billers’ back and sounded the horn again. Still the farmer paid no attention.