Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1918-08-15
HIS DRIVER
BY MILDRED WHITE.
Copyright. 1917. western Newspaper Union. }

Glen Truesdale, alighting at the vii
lage station, looked quickly about for
the usual hotel conveyance. It was
mile and half to the center of the
town, and his time there was limited.
No customary bus presented itself to
his vision; impatiently he strobe up
the roadway, and there, just at the
bend, waited a 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 sblurted out, "that
you would drive me there?"
The girl pushed open the car door.
s'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.
s'Great morning, isn't it?" she said. To
Glen Truesdale 1t was a '.great morn
ing"
'There's the great business block.
ahead" laughed the girl, land your
Office the center one. Twenty five
cents, please,
$50 soon" said Truesdale. His tone
bespoke disappointment.
The driver flung open the door, and
even as he descended she prepared
Ito 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 anshour from
his boyhood. The car and the services
of. this lovely, battling maid were nil
;raculously for hire.
"This afternoon" said Truesdale II
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-
4 gers. Call for you at two
The other passengers We're tucked
4 into the back seat when she arrived.
|. Silently he resented the presence of
THE two old ladies, but on their Swing
4 ing way again, he was glad. The driv-
er seemed tosfeel free now, to include
him in the merry, descriptive remarks
the station lights cleaning through
evening dusk, Glen Truesdale fingered
beside the big car.
ut will be- necessary for me to pay
"a weekly visit here for some time" he
told the girl; may ask you to- drive
me each Wednesday," y
For moment she regarded him be-
meath her soft cap brim
Certainly" she agreed impersonally.
1t was altogether strange and ipex-
/ 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. Unaccountable anger filled
hirn-that "she'' should be carrying
4 people about, here and there, at so
much a mile, and why?. And what
4 was it all to him, he who did not even
know her name?
4 My name is Glen Truesdale,'' he abb
ruptly informed her upon one Of their
A later rides. II would like to know
4 yours"
i 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
i was, and forever break the charm.
Instinctively, 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-bus?''
"Don't know much about 'em," the
agent replied. "Came here a couple
OF months ago and rented the old Gage
place. Carstafrs, 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
a it was pretty pluclSy. And Glen Trues-
dale came back to the country town
no more
The girls eyes grew wistful as Wed
nesday after Wednesday passed. But
the haunting eyes looking back from
Glens paper We're hooking ones
When business forced him again to the
country his face whitened with feal
that she would be there. but when he
saw her his heart quickened in JOYOUS