Granny fell asleep the moment the automobile started moving, like a baby rocked in a cradle. “How’m I supposed to learn to drive one of these danged things if I can’t stay awa . . .” she began as they put her in the backseat with Gladdy and set off.

They passed out of Swisher into the country. Tugs and Ned rode in the open air of the rumble seat, but Tugs didn’t notice the hawk swooping overhead or the fox darting up to the edge of the road then back between the low stalks of early corn. What if Lester Ward made her pay for the statue she’d broken? What if Aggie found out and didn’t want her to come to her party after all?

Ned interrupted her thoughts. “Fourth of July next week,” he said.

“Huh?”

“IndePENdence Day,” he said a little louder, and Tugs’s stomach fell further. How could she tell him she wanted to run the three-legged with Aggie?

“We aren’t going to win, are we?” Ned continued.

“Nope.”

“That’s OK. I just like to race. I can’t catch a football, but I still like to play.”

“Yup.”

Tugs played over her encounter with Aggie in her head. What if there was a chance of winning? What if she did run with Aggie? She felt a wave of guilt for even thinking it. Buttons considered victory, even for one’s affiliated party in national politics, showing off.

Don’t go getting a swell head, was all her father had said when Tugs won the first round of the third-grade spelling bee. She’d been sure to confuse a letter here or there after that.

Ned and Tugs watched a cow trying to break out of its fence and a mare drinking from the cow pond. They passed a man in a Panama hat, walking on the side of the road. He waved, but Aunt Mina was driving fast and rounded a curve before Tugs and Ned could wave back.

“Where’s Granny going to sleep?” Ned asked.

“Davenport.”

“Where are you going to sit?”

“Kitchen, I guess.”

“Closer to the cookie jar, anyhow,” said Ned.

“Mm-hmm.”

Just then the car sputtered. They slowed, then lurched and rumbled to the side of the road and stopped. Tugs and Ned peered in the back window. Aunt Mina was climbing out of the car. Granny had popped awake and was shaking her finger at Gladdy.

Tugs and Ned hopped out and walked around to Aunt Mina and Mother Button, who were pondering the hood. Granny banged on the door.

“Gladdy, keep Granny in the car!” Aunt Mina hollered, but Granny batted Gladdy’s hand away and appealed to Ned and Tugs through the open window.

“Help the old lady out of this rattletrap!”

Tugs and Ned opened the door and each grabbed one of Granny’s skinny arms and helped her climb down. Gladdy passed Granny’s cane to Ned, then climbed out herself.

“You’re going to be in trouble!” Gladdy taunted, but they ignored her. Gladdy was always trying to get them in trouble.

“Look!” Gladdy said. “Someone’s coming.”

“What?” asked Aunt Mina sharply. “Where?”

“She’s right. A man,” said Tugs. “Walking this way.”

“Everyone back in the car,” commanded Aunt Mina. “It’s probably a hobo or maybe a gangster, and here we are, women alone in the middle of nowhere.”

“Hey!” protested Ned. “I’m not a woman.”

“Pshaw,” spat Granny. “There’s six of us and just one of him. He looks like a scrawny fellow, anyhow. We can take him.”

“Is that a Panama? Hoboes don’t wear straw hats,” said Mother Button as the man got closer. She straightened her own hat and smoothed her skirt. “Try to look respectable, everyone. Maybe he knows something about cars.”

“I’ll find out,” said Ned. He ran to meet the man as he approached.

“Ned!” Aunt Mina shouted after him. “You come back here this instant!” But Ned kept running.

“I stayed right here, Mother, no matter how curious I am,” said Gladdy.

“I’ll go with Ned,” said Tugs, and she dashed off before anyone could protest.

The man was looking down at Ned and talking intently as Tugs approached. He did not look like a hobo or a murderer. He was younger than the uncles, wearing a dapper suit, tie loosed at the neck, and carrying a leather satchel.

“Who are you and what are you doing out here?” Tugs demanded.

The man laughed.

“He’s our newspaperman,” said Ned. “He got off the train at the wrong station and no one was there to pick him up and he’s been walking all day. He came all the way from Chicago.”

“We don’t have a newspaper anymore,” said Tugs.

The man chuckled. “You are an observant one, aren’t you?” he said. “You’re right, of course, but you’re going to have a newspaper.” He tipped his hat. “Harvey Moore, bringing progress to Iowa one town at a time. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Goodhue men don’t wear fancy hats, except for Mr. Pepper, who is a snappy dresser, and mayor Corbett.”

“That so?” Mr. Moore laughed.

“My aunt thinks you’re going to murder us,” said Tugs.

“So young Ned tells me. With all this dust and grime, I may look a bit shady today, but I assure you, the only murdering I’ll be doing is of lunch, soon as I can find it. I haven’t had anything to eat since the train left the Windy City.”

“We’ve got sandwiches,” said Ned. “And pie.”

“Now, that’s the way to welcome a newcomer, sport,” said Harvey, plopping his hat on Ned’s head and walking toward the car. Tugs stood back and watched them go. He didn’t look like a newspaperman, but then she’d never known a newspaperman in person.

The women were huddled around the front of the car, where Aunt Mina was heaving open the hood.

Harvey flashed his winning smile and introduced himself all around.

“Your lucky day, ladies. I worked as a mechanic back when. What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

“It just made a chortling sound, then sputtered to a stop,” said Aunt Mina.

“It was more like a whirrawhoop,” said Mother Button.

“Clank was all I heard,” said Granny.

Gladdy just stood there and giggled. She combed her fingers through her hair and giggled some more.

“Pull yourself together, Gladdy, and get the nice man a sandwich,” admonished Aunt Mina, smoothing her own hair and straightening her collar. Gladdy reached through the window to the basket on the backseat, then bumped her head backing out, which threw her into another fit of giggles.

Tugs stood off to the side. She held her fingers out in a square, like a camera lens. She watched her mother and Aunt Mina watch Harvey peer under the hood. She watched Ned trying to work his way in front of Granny and Granny nudging him out of the way with her cane. She watched Gladdy hover around the edge, clutching two sandwiches. Everyone was bending, straightening, standing, sitting.

“When he’s done with the heart of the beast, an old lady could use a hand getting into the shade of the automobile,” Granny said.

Tugs wondered what Aggie Millhouse would do if she were here. For a mechanic, Mr. Moore didn’t seem to be fixing anything very quickly. Aggie wouldn’t giggle, like Gladdy, in the face of that broad smile and smooth talk; that was certain.

Tugs climbed into the front seat and felt around underneath, where she’d seen her father stash the manual. She paged through until she found what she was looking for, then stowed it back where she’d found it. She walked around to the hood, where everyone was gathered.

“I know what’s the matter,” she said.

“Shush, child,” said Aunt Mina. “Can’t you see Mr. Moore is trying to repair our automobile?”

“But I . . .” said Tugs.

“Hush!” echoed Granny.

“No, no,” Harvey said, straightening and looking directly at Tugs. “Our little lady is dressed like a mechanic in those overalls; we’d better listen to her.” He laughed.

Tugs looked down at her pants. “Mechanics wear coveralls,” she muttered.

“What’s that?” snapped Aunt Mina.

Tugs had seen her father work on the car a hundred times. He’d chattered while he worked, telling her everything he knew about the engine and how cars worked.

“We’re out of gas,” she said simply.

Harvey Moore smiled even more broadly and snatched his Panama off Ned’s head, settling it back on his own.

“Truth be told, I was always better with a football than a wrench,” he said. “Played for Purdue, back in . . . But you’re not interested in . . .”

“Yes, we are!” said Ned. “Did you ever play Iowa?”

“Ned,” said Aunt Mina. “Let the man finish.”

“As missy was saying, you’re out of gas,” said Harvey. “Look how long you have had the hood open. I actually just assumed you knew you were out of gas. I am checking the safety of the valves and the . . . well . . . as soon as I have a little fuel myself, as they say, I’ll skedaddle to fetch you lovely ladies a can of gas so you can be on your way.”

Gladdy thrust two sandwiches out to Harvey, and Aunt Mina reached into her skirt pocket and pressed some coins into his hand.

“Hope he brings you the change,” snapped Granny as they watched Harvey saunter off. “That looked to me like more than enough for a can of gas, Mina, and now we’ve given him Ned and Gladdy’s sandwiches.”

“Hey!” said Gladdy and Ned together.

“The sandwiches are all the same. How do you know they were ours?” said Ned.

“Well, I’m an old lady. It wouldn’t be my sandwich, now, would it? And your mother is driving. Couldn’t be her sandwich or Auntie Corrine’s, now, either, ’cause she’s doing the navigating. Can’t be Tugs’s sandwich, because Tugs helped Mr. Moore solve the mystery of the automobile. So it must be your and Gladdy’s sandwiches. Now, go make yourselves scarce. Tugs and me want to dine in relative tranquility.”

Tugs accepted the sandwich Granny handed her, but as she took a bite, she felt a little guilty. She tore it in three parts and handed a piece each to Gladdy and Ned.

They didn’t have to wait long for help. Lester Ward’s roadster came speeding along presently, with Harvey Moore in the passenger seat. Tugs slid down in the backseat, hoping desperately that Lester wouldn’t see her there.

“Rescued!” she heard Harvey bellow. “I flagged down this fine fellow, and isn’t he the good Samaritan, picking up a stranger in need and buying a can of gas for you lovely ladies besides. There. And look, he’s filling it for you, too.”

As Lester finished, Harvey clapped him on the back. “Let’s go, my friend. We’ll leave the ladies to their journey.”

“Wait!” Ned hollered. “Can I ride with you?”

Tugs peered over the seat. She saw Harvey take a long drink of lemonade from a bottle in Lester’s car as they sped off, Ned waving from the center of the road until they were out of sight.

“Isn’t he just the most amazing young man?” said Aunt Mina.

“He’s dashing,” gushed Gladdy.

“Imagine,” continued Aunt Mina. “Bringing the newspaper back to Goodhue. It’s about time.”

“Harvey Moore,” said Mother Button. “That’s the name of someone who can get something done.”

“He dresses too fancy for a mechanic or a football player,” said Tugs.

“Tugs, where have you been? He’s a newspaperman,” said Aunt Mina. “Now, everyone back in the car. Granny’s exhausted.”