It’s got brass trim and wooden wheels, and look at those big old lamps for headlights. Plus, it doesn’t have a horn like other cars, but a whistle!” Lars shrilled a creditable imitation of a steam train whistle. “Wheee-owwwwww! And it doesn’t go brrum, brrum like gasoline engines. It goes chuff, chuff, chuff, chuff!” He began to circle the library table, elbows bent and arms working. “Chuff, chuff, chuff-whee, whee-owwwwwww!”

Phil and the women laughed.

Jill, her voice sounding strained from her attempt to be reasonable, said, “Listen to me, Lars. This car has got to be dangerous. It’s more than ninety years old, and it’s been in a wreck. And it’s a steam-powered automobile. That’s something they tried and gave up on, or why isn’t every car on the road today powered by steam? And look at this thing, it hasn’t even got a roof! What are you going to do when winter comes?”

“Oh, it’s not going to be my main car. I’m just going to drive it for fun!”

Phil, never one to spoil a good argument, said, “I could help you get it going, Lars. I started out in steam-driven locomotives.”

“See?” Lars said to Jill.

Phil continued, “And there’s an antique car meet every year right here in Minnesota. They drive from New London to New Brighton.”

“ New Brighton?” echoed Betsy. “You mean our New Brighton? The Minneapolis suburb?”

Phil nodded. “They finish up in a park in New Brighton, and the mayor comes to shake every driver’s hand. I’ve gone a couple of times to watch them come in. I remember there’s usually a 1901 Oldsmobile, and a 1908 Cadillac, and a spread of Maxwells and Fords. Beautiful old cars-and one year they had those bicycles that have a big wheel up front and a little bitty wheel behind. There’s a big club that runs the thing. People come from all over to drive in it.”

“Are they the Minnesota Transportation Museum people?” asked Martha. “We’ve got some of them right here in town.”