will do, and walked the three miles to church for the evening services.
It may be imagined that the girls of the neighborhood were interested when Henry appeared in church again, now a good-looking young man of twenty-one, back from the city. The social popularity of the Ford place must have increased considerably. On this point Ford is discreetly silent, but it does not require any great effort of fancy to see him as he must have looked then, through the eyes of the Greenfield girls, an alert, muscular fellow, with a droll humor and a whimsical smile. Moreover, the driver of the finest horses in the neighborhood, and one of the heirs to the big farm.
However, he is outspoken enough about his own attitude. He did not care for girls.
Like most men with a real interest, he kept for a long time the small boy opinion of them. "Girls?—huh! What are they good for?"
He was interested in machines. He wanted to get back to Detroit, where he could take up again his plans for that mammoth watch factory.
In a few weeks he had brought the farm up to its former running order, the crops were doing well and the hired men had learned that there was a boss at the head of affairs. Henry had a little more time to spend in the shop. He found in one corner of it the absurd steam engine he
