HE WHIRLED, STARING out across the fields to his left. Why, the tractor shed had stood just fifty feet from the house!
No, he’d torn it down. The tractor was in town, being overhauled and all. He was leaving it there until he had use for it.
He went on toward the road, his head beginning to throb. Why should a man his age, hardly sick at all since he was a kid, suddenly start losing hold this way? Edna was worried. The Shanks had noticed it too.
He was at the supply bin—like an old-fashioned wood bin; a box with a sloping flap lid. Deliveries of food and clothing and home medicines and other things were left here. You wrote down what you needed, and they left it—or whatever they allowed you—with a bill. You paid the bill by leaving money in the bin, and the next week you found a receipt
