Looking out she saw a group of passengers grinning, and Yerkes running hard for the car, holding something in his hand, and pursued by a man in a slouch hat, who seemed to be swearing.
Yerkes dashed into the car, deposited his booty in the kitchen, and standing in the doorway faced the enemy.

A terrific babel arose.
Elizabeth appeared in the passage and demanded to know what had happened.
"All right, my lady," said Yerkes, mopping his forehead.

"I've only been and milked his cow.

No saying where I'd have got any milk this side of Winnipeg if I hadn't." "But, Yerkes, he doesn't seem to like it." "Oh, that's all right, my lady." But the settler was now on the steps of the car gesticulating and scolding, in what Elizabeth guessed to be a Scandinavian tongue.

He was indeed a gigantic Swede, furiously angry, and Elizabeth had thoughts of bearding him herself and restoring the milk, when some mysterious transaction involving coin passed suddenly between the two men.