The Leader, enterprise and press. (Fitzgerald, Ga.) 1915-1921, 1918-05-03
HIS DRIVER
BY MILDRED WHITE.
Copyright. 1917. Western Newspaper Union 4

i"Se ottltioH, loOkeu quickly about Tor
the usual hotel conveyance. It was a
mile and half to the center of the
town, and his time there was limited,
] No customary bus presented itself .e
his vision; impatiently he strobe up
the roadway, and there, just at the
bend, waited large automobile. In
the drivers seat sat the most beautiful
girl he. had ever seen.
Truesdale was debating with him
self whether he might dare to ask Of
her the information the brusque sta
ton agent denied, when the girl leaned
forward.
Auto for Lyndenville?" she asked.
"You mean" he blurted out, "that
you would drive me there?''
The girl pushed open the car door.
"That is my business" she answered.
With alacrity he placed his valise in
the machine and seated himself by the
driver. Her gauntleted hands were
upon the wheel.
"Where?" she asked briefly.
Truesdale answered with the house
name of his destination. There was
no invitation for further remark in her
businesslike manner.
Once she turned to smile at him.
"Great morning, isn't it?" she said. To
Glen Truesdale it was "great morn
ing"
there's the great business block
ahead" laughed the girl, ''and your
office the center one. Twenty-Five
cents, please"
$50 soon," said Truesda1e. His tone
bespoke disappointment.
The driver flung open the door, and
even as he descended she prepared
to whirl her car about in departure.
Then inspiration came to him. There
was so little of, interesting variety in
his tread-mill life, this glorious morn
ing spin had seemed like an hour from
his boyhood. The car and the services
Of this lovely, battling maid were mi
raculously for hire.
"This afternoon" said Truesdale, ST
would like to be carried over to the
next town; could you do it?"
The girl considered. EYES," she
said; "and there will be other passen-
gers. Call for you at two.''
The other passengers were tucked
into the back seat when she arrived
Silently he resented the presence of
the two old ladies, but on their swing
Ing way again. he was glad. The driv-
er seemed to feel free now, to include
him in the merry, descriptive remarks
she made to the others. Back, with
the station lights cleaning through
evening dusk, Glen Truesdale fingered
beside the big car.
ut will be necessary for me to pay
weekly visit here for some Time" he
told the girl; "may ask you to drive
me each Wednesdays"
For moment she regarded him be-
meath her soft cap brim. 4,
Certainly" she agreed impersonally.
1t was altogether strange and inex-
plicable how that winsome, girlish face
haunted him through the days which
followed. Mockingly it smiled from
perplexing papers; resentfully it
seemed to withdraw at his own return
ing smile. Unacconntable anger filed
him-that "she" should be carrying
people about, here and there, at so
much mile, and why?. And what
was it all to him, he who did not even
know her name?
my name is Glen Truesdale," he alb
ruptly Informed her upon one of their
later rides. II would like to know
yours"
Margaret Carstairs," she replied in
mimicry.
This last ride down through the
early starlight, was one of enchant-
ment. Truesdale dared hardly glance
at the glowing face near his own, lest
he must tell the girl how lovely she
was, and forever break the charm.
lnstinctively, he knew that one step
out of his stipulated role of customer
only" would be the end. But how to
see her under other and more promis-,
ing conditions-that was the problem.
Then, because he must know more Of
her, he sought the station agent.
Whom did you say she WASP" he
asked casually, 'the young woman who
drives the auto-busY"
Don't know much about 'em," the
agent replied. "Came here a couple
of months ago and rented the old Gage
place. Carstairs, the name. Her hus-
band, started to run the auto trips,
when he was called to war. Then, she
took it up. Pretty plucky."
Truesdale's head was swimming. He
stepped out into the night. Her hus-
band-and he had gone-to war. Yes.
1t was pretty plucky. And Glen Trues-
dale came back to the country town
no more.
The girls eyes grew wistful as We'd
nesday after Wednesday passed. But
the haunting eyes looking back from
Glen's paper were mocking ones.
When business forced him again to tho