Chapter 21

⁠​​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​⁠Ellen had spotted the wagon before Simon, drawn by a strapping team of grays. The little farmer had a white beard and mustache. He was touching his hat and yelling across the tarred road to where they sat on the station house steps, “Hi. You Mrs. Gaddy?”

They took up their bags and ran. Simon was scrambling into the wagon bed. “Hey, Mester.”

“I’m Matthew Wasilewski,” the old man said. Ellen climbed