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Updated: May 26, 2025
With a rattle and roar the car of the bandits approached, not the length of two city blocks away on the desert trail. Frank took in the situation at a glance. "Crank for your life," he ordered Remedios. "Jack, keep him covered." As the Mexican sprang to the crank, and started turning, Frank leaped to the driver's seat of the flivver and manipulated throttle and spark.
I shall not inquire by what miracle of grace Paw has learned to find his way about on these curling-iron mountain roads. I am content to eat a barrel of dust a day rather than miss the sight of Maw, placid and bespectacled, on the front seat of the flivver. Without her the mountain roads would never be the same for me, and my own vacation would be spoiled.
"And after that, Drusilla," he smiled as he phrased it "your Tin Soldier will go to the wars." Jean glanced from one to the other. "Is that what she called you a Tin Soldier?" "It is what I called myself." Marion having come forward to say the proper thing, added, "Drusilla's going, too." "Drusilla?" "Yes, with my college unit to run errands in a flivver."
Let's go home, mother. Let's go home and breathe." In Wisconsin you are likely to find snow in April snow or slush. The Brewsters found both. Yet on their way up from the station in 'Gene Buck's flivver taxi, they beamed out at it as if it were a carpet of daisies. At the corner of Elm and Jackson Streets Hosey Brewster stuck his head out of the window. "Stop here a minute, will you, 'Gene?"
Before the blinding glare in his eyes, Frank involuntarily ducked his head. As his eyes left the road, the car swerved. A shot rang out from the car of the bandits, ripping high and doing no damage. "Look out, Frank. Swing her over," cried Jack in alarm. Shouts of panic rose from the car of the bandits, too. Too late. There was a crash, the flivver lurched, then sped on.
He touched the back of it with his forefinger, as though he was afraid he might soil it. There seemed to be no reason, but he was trembling as he stammered, "I I I'm d-darn glad I didn't know they were anybody, or 'd have been as bad as a flivver driver the first time he tries a t-twelve-cylinder machine. G-gee your hand is little!" She took it back and inspected it. "I suppose it is.
They could get Barney's flivver." "Shall we signal over to them?" called a dozen excited voices. "No, there isn't time. Come on now, hustle, and the rest of you go to sleep." "While you're chasing thieves? Did you hear what he said? Go to sleep! Can you beat that, from a scoutmaster! And him always telling us to be wide awake."
Pulcifer took the three one dollar bills and waved the apologies aside with them. "Don't say a word, Mr. Bangs," he called, cheerily, as the car began to move. "Anybody's liable to forget. Do it myself sometimes. Well, so long. Hope to see you again one of these days. Good-night." The flivver moved rapidly away, gaining speed as it rushed for the hill.
Every homesteader who had a tug that would fasten over a doubletree, a wagon that could still squeak, or a flivver that had a bolt in it, went into the transportation business hauling the seekers from Pierre or from McClure to look at the land. A generation before people had migrated in little groups in covered wagons to find new land.
Or an inter-urban trolley winging its way through the dusk like a casket of golden light? Or even a country flivver, loaded down with parcels and holly and the Yuletide keg of root beer? Root beer may be but meager flaggonage compared to mulled claret, but at any rate 'tis honest, 'tis actual, 'tis tangible and potable.
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