Trixie was having a hard time keeping up with him.
"Wiley! Get outta that road, son!" Mama screamed. "You'll get run
over!" Mama started running after them, but Grandpa called her
back.
"Nannie, don't fret! They'll get outta the way soon as they
see it coming!"
Wiley and Trixie, rounding the bend, disappeared behind the
plum thicket.
"Boys and dogs has both got plenty of gumption," Grandpa told
Mama, "more'n folks give 'em credit for."
Just then, we saw it!
"Look, Grandpa!"
"Yeah! There 'tis. It's a automobile all right. A one-seater.
Foot dool! I wish it wasn't coming so all-fired fast. It ain't a
Ford Model T. But hanged if I can tell what make it is." Grandpa
was talking low and quick, as much to himself as to me and Mama.
"Man, man, just look at her wheels roll! Lickety-split!"
Mama shielded her eyes against the morning sun and looked
hard at the black automobile. I put my hand up on my forehead
too, and stared. The thing sailed right by in a big whiff of dust
and was gone before any of us had a chance to get a good look at
it.
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