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INDIAN SUMMER

"Sometimes it's just as good to leave things well enough alone. At least that's what two young men in the middle of this century found out!"

The wind of an October day blew the fall leaves into swirling ghosts of color. The northern New England hills burned with reds, golds, greens, and yellows; all signaling the close of another summer.

"It seems unfair that summer should end so quick." Brady Robbins complained through the wheat straw that grew from his teeth. "Summer ought to be forever. You'd think science could at least do that."

"It ain't likely they will.", Ralph said to his brother. "Bet I could turn this here old car to gold bout the same time scientists figger out the weather." Ralph slapped the dash of the 13 year old relic as they drove down the dust of the road.

"Just the same, it outta be done by somebody. I'd do it myself if I knew how."

"Make alotta skiers pretty mad at ya." Ralph chuckled.

"No matter, I'd do it if I could and the skiers be hanged." Brady propped one leg up on the dash.

Ralph squinted down the sun bright road. It seemed to them both that first he wasn't there and then he was. A man in a cool white suit stood in the middle of the road flagging them down. Ralph hit the brakes full, kicking up dust as the thin tires grabbed the dirt. Brady was standing on the brakes too, reacting to the man in the road that hadn't been there a moment before.

They missed him, but not by much.

"Nice of you gentlemen to stop." He approached the car speaking. "Fine warm day it is. Take me as far as you're going then." Without a by your leave he grabbed the door handle, opened the door, and climbed into the back seat.

Brady spoke as Ralph eased the car into gear. "Where the heck did you come from, we almost didn't see you in time to stop."

"Why, I've come from where I've been." Returning Brady's puzzled look. "And I've been almost everywhere." He said in a voice meant to clear up Brady's expression.

"I mean where'd you just come from? You were just in the middle of the road."

"Well, of course I was, that's why you stopped."

"Almost not in time." Ralph piped in.

"Never worry boys, Francis J. Forrington, that's me, never has been hit by a motorist." He smiled, then frowned, "Though a few passed me by," his spirits rose, 'but only a few.'' Brady thought what a crazy old buy they had sitting on their back seat. "Not from these parts then?"

"Oh, my no. This is my first time. Quite quaint it is too. I kind of like it."

"'cept

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