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The Bohemian Girl
The transcontinental express swung along the windings of the
Sand River Valley； and in the rear seat of the observation car a
young man sat greatly at his ease； not in the least discomfited by
the fierce sunlight which beat in upon his brown face and neck and
strong back。 There was a look of relaxation and of great passivity
about his broad shoulders； which seemed almost too heavy until he
stood up and squared them。 He wore a pale flannel shirt and a blue
silk necktie with loose ends。 His trousers were wide and belted at
the waist； and his short sack coat hung open。 His heavy shoes had
seen good service。 His reddish…brown hair； like his clothes； had
a foreign cut。 He had deep…set； dark blue eyes under heavy reddish
eyebrows。 His face was kept clean only by close shaving； and even
the sharpest razor left a glint of yellow in the smooth brown of
his skin。 His teeth and the palms of his hands were very white。
His head； which looked hard and stubborn； lay indolently in the
green cushion of the wicker chair； and as he looked out at the ripe
summer country a teasing； not unkindly smile played over his lips。
Once； as he basked thus comfortably； a quick light flashed in his
eves； curiously dilating the pupils； and his mouth became a hard；
straight line； gradually relaxing into its former smile of rather
kindly mockery。 He told himself； apparently； that there was no
point in getting excited； and he seemed a master hand at taking his
ease when he could。 Neither the sharp whistle of the locomotive
nor the brakeman's call disturbed him。 It was not until after the
train had stopped that he rose； put on a Panama hat； took from the
rack a small valise and a flute case； and stepped deliberately to
the station platform。 The baggage was already unloaded； and the
stranger presented a check for a battered sole…leather steamer
trunk。
〃Can you keep it here for a day or two？〃 he asked the agent。 〃I
may send for it； and I may not。〃
〃Depends on whether you like the country； I suppose？〃 demanded
the agent in a challenging tone。
〃Just so。〃
The agent shrugged his shoulders； looked scornfully at the
small trunk； which was marked 〃N。E。；〃 and handed out a claim check
without further comment。 The stranger watched him as he caught one
end of the trunk and dragged it into the express room。 The agent's
manner seemed to remind him of something amusing。 〃Doesn't seem to
be a very big place；〃 he remarked； looking about。
〃It's big enough for us；〃 snapped the agent； as he banged the
trunk into a corner。
That remark； apparently； was what Nils Ericson had wanted。 He
chuckled quietly as he took a leather strap from his pocket and
swung his valise around his shoulder。 Then he settled his Panama
securely on his head； turned up his trousers； tucked the flute case
under his arm； and started off across the fields。 He gave the
town； as he would have said； a wide berth； and cut through a great
fenced pasture； emerging； when he rolled under the barbed wire at
the farther corner； upon a white dusty road which ran straight up
from the river valley to the high prairies； where the ripe wheat
stood yellow and the tin roofs and weathercocks were twinkling in
the fierce sunlight。 By the time Nils had done three miles； the
sun was sinking and the farm wagons on their way home from town
came rattling by； covering him with dust and making him sneeze。
When one of the farmers pulled up and offered to give him a lift；
he clambered in willingly。 The driver was a thin； grizzled old man
with a long lean neck and a foolish sort of beard； like a goat's。
〃How fur ye goin'？〃 he asked； as he clucked to his horses and
started off。
〃Do you go by the Ericson place？〃
〃Which Ericson？〃 The old man drew in his reins as if he expected
to stop again。
〃Preacher Ericson's。〃
〃Oh； the Old Lady Ericson's！〃 He turned and looked at Nils。
〃La； me！ If you're goin' out there you might a' rid out in the
automobile。 That's a pity； now。 The Old Lady Ericson was in town
with her auto。 You might 'a' heard it snortin' anywhere about the
post…office er the butcher shop。〃
〃Has she a motor？〃 asked the stranger absently。
〃'Deed an' she has！ She runs into town every night about this
time for her mail and meat for supper。 Some folks say she's afraid
her auto won't get exercise enough； but I say that's jealousy。〃
〃Aren't there any other motors about here？〃
〃Oh； yes！ we have fourteen in all。 But nobody else gets
around like the Old Lady Ericson。 She's out； rain er shine； over
the whole county； chargin' into town and out amongst her farms； an'
up to her sons' places。 Sure you ain't goin' to the wrong place？〃
He craned his neck and looked at Nils' flute case with eager
curiosity。 〃The old woman ain't got any piany that I knows on。
Olaf； he has a grand。 His wife's musical： took lessons in
Chicago。〃
〃I'm going up there tomorrow；〃 said Nils imperturbably。 He
saw that the driver took him for a piano tuner。
〃Oh； I see！〃 The old man screwed up his eyes mysteriously。 He
was a little dashed by the stranger's noncommunicativeness； but he
soon broke out again。
〃I'm one o' Miss Ericson's tenants。 Look after one of her
places。 I did own the place myself once； but I lost it a while
back； in the bad years just after the World's Fair。 Just as well；
too； I say。 Lets you out o' payin' taxes。 The Ericsons do own
most of the county now。 I remember the old preacher's favorite
text used to be； 'To them that hath shall be given。' They've spread
something wonderfulrun over this here country like bindweed。 But
I ain't one that begretches it to 'em。 Folks is entitled to what
they kin git； and they're hustlers。 Olaf； he's in the Legislature
now； and a likely man fur Congress。 Listen； if that ain't the old
woman comin' now。 Want I should stop her？〃
Nils shook his head。 He heard the deep chug…chug of a motor
vibrating steadily in the clear twilight behind them。 The pale
lights of the car swam over the hill； and the old man slapped his
reins and turned clear out of the road； ducking his head at
the first of three angry snorts from behind。 The motor was running
at a hot； even speed； and passed without turning an inch from its
course。 The driver was a stalwart woman who sat at ease in the
front seat and drove her car bareheaded。 She left a cloud of dust
and a trail of gasoline behind her。 Her tenant threw back his head
and sneezed。
〃Whew！ I sometimes say I'd as lief be before Mrs。 Ericson
as behind her。 She does beat all！ Nearly seventy； and never lets
another soul touch that car。 Puts it into commission herself
every morning； and keeps it tuned up by the hitch…bar all day。 I
never stop work for a drink o' water that I don't hear her a…
churnin' up the road。 I reckon her darter…in…laws never sets
down easy nowadays。 Never know when she'll pop in。 Mis' Otto；
she says to me： 'We're so afraid that thing'll blow up and do Ma
some injury yet； she's so turrible venturesome。' Says I： 'I
wouldn't stew； Mis' Otto； the old lady'll drive that car to the
funeral of every darter…in…law she's got。' That was after the old
woman had jumped a turrible bad culvert。〃
The stranger heard vaguely what the old man was saying。
Just now he was experiencing something very much like
homesickness； and he was wondering what had brought it about。
The mention of a name or two； perhaps； the rattle of a wagon
along a dusty road； the rank； resinous smell of sunflowers and
ironweed； which the night damp brought up from the draws and low
places； perhaps； more than all； the dancing lights of the motor
that had plunged by。 He squared his shoulders with a comfortable
sense of strength。
The wagon； as it jolted westward； climbed a pretty steady
up…grade。 The country； receding from the rough river valley；
swelled more and more gently； as if it had been smoothed out by
the wind。 On one of the last of the rugged ridges； at the end of
a branch road； stood a grim square house with a tin roof and
double porches。 Behind the house stretched a row of broken；
wind…racked poplars； and down the hill slope to the left
straggled the sheds and stables。 The old man stopped his horses
where the Ericsons