She was spearing roasting ears out of a big iron pot and looked up through the steam.  “Why, have you seen her?  I was listening on the telephone this morning and heard her tell Bayliss she would be in town until late.”  “Oh, yes!  She went to town all right, and he’s over there eating a cold supper by himself.  That woman’s a fanatic.  She ain’t content with practising prohibition on humankind; she’s begun now on the hens.”  While he placed the chairs and wheeled the baby up to the table, he explained Enid’s method of raising poultry to his wife.  She said she really didn’t see any harm in it.

“Now be honest, Susie; did you ever know hens would keep on laying without a rooster?”

“No, I didn’t, but I was brought up the old-fashioned way.  Enid has poultry books and garden books, and all such things.  I don’t doubt she gets good ideas from them.  But anyhow, you be careful.  She’s our nearest neighbour, and I don’t want to have trouble with her.”

“I’ll have to keep out of her way, then.  If she tries to do any missionary work among my chickens, I’ll tell her a few home truths her husband’s too bashful to tell her.  It’s my opinion she’s got that boy cowed already.”

“Now, Len, you know she won’t bother your chickens.  You keep quiet.  But Claude does seem to sort of avoid people,” Susie admitted, filling her husband’s plate again.  “Mrs. Joe Havel says Ernest don’t go to Claude’s any more.  It seems Enid went over there and wanted Ernest to paste some Prohibition posters about fifteen million drunkards on their barn, for an example to the Bohemians.  Ernest wouldn’t do it, and told her he was going to vote for saloons, and Enid was quite spiteful, Mrs. Havel said.  It’s too bad, when those boys were such chums.  I used to like to see them together.”  Susie spoke so kindly that her husband shot her a quick glance of shy affection.

“Do you suppose Claude relished having that preacher visiting them, when they hadn’t been married two months?  Sitting on the front porch in a white necktie every day, while Claude was out cutting wheat?”

“Well, anyhow, I guess Claude had more to eat when Brother Weldon was staying there.  Preachers won’t be fed on calories, or whatever it is Enid calls ’em,” said Susie, who was given to looking on the bright side of things.  “Claude’s wife keeps a wonderful kitchen; but so could I, if I never cooked any more than she does.”

Leonard gave her a meaning look.  “I don’t believe you would live with the sort of man you could feed out of a tin can.”

“No, I don’t believe I would.”  She pushed the buggy toward him.  “Take her up, Daddy.  She wants to play with you.”

Leonard set the baby on his shoulder and carried her off to show her the pigs.  Susie kept laughing to herself as she cleared the table and washed the dishes; she was much amused by what her husband had told her.

Late that evening, when Leonard was starting for the barn to see that all was well before he went to bed, he observed a discreet black object rolling along the highroad in the moonlight, a red spark winking in the rear.  He called Susie to the door.