The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-10-25
CHAPTER, VII WOn-And Lost

A bright glare in my eyes awoke me. I was trying to adjust my mind to the strangeness of waking up out on the prairie, when a voice spoke to me:
 "For Heavens sake. Nell. whats the matter?''
 I stared up at Bill.
 My brain was still befogged. had walked all the way to his place.
 -tWhere's Jarvis?" he exclaimed helping me to my feet and studying me.
 With a rush it all came back. Bill led me to the house, and fully I told him what had happened.
 He made no comment.
 Come, let's have some breakfast" he said in his quiet way.
 I couldn't eat; but he insisted on my drinking the cup of strong coffee his Chinaman made for me. It clear ed my brain
 went over every word of that dreadful scene between us; recalled JarvLs's offer to relinquish the land, and his acknowledgement in the sa me breath that he didn't see the reason for it.
 He was spiritually blind.
 i've got to go over to Poison Creek remarked Bill after break fast. "Tu drive you home.''
 He brought his car around to the front of the house and climbed in.
 Better go with me- he suggest ed, reaching for cap in a side-pocket, and handing it to me Drive the cobwebs out"
 I nodded. Nothing lnattered; and soon the big racer was roaring over the Prairies. Unutterab1y sick, I sat in wordless agony. One thought held me; Jarvis was gone, and I could not call him back.
 Never had the barren land looked so utterly desolate. Even the little shacks of Poison Creek appeared to have fallen into an added wretched- ness since last I saw them.
 Vaguely I heard Bin inquire for Jarvis. Everybody in town had seen him. Some spoke of hi1n as the chap with a smile; others would say:
 <tOh, yes, the stranger what looked like he was on the way to his own uneraP'-depending upon whether they had seen him coming or going
 And he had gone on the early hack to catch the Eastbound at Douglas.
 Bill lifted the seat, took out a 1eath- CT jacket. and handed it to me.
 Put it on.'' he said, land turn the peak of your cap backward obeyed.
 He took off his coat and put on workman's canvas-jumper, all covered with black grease, turned his cap backward, and stepped into the car. There was roar of the motor and the car slid forward, picking up momen- tuTn as 1t went
 Surely even in the great hereafter the memory of that ride will be with me.
 As we struck the highway Bill put his f0nT fha nd "a leaped like a blooded horse. With a hum of tires and smell of gasoline we dashed noisily ahead, settling dwon to a steady rumble. The wind stung our faces like needles. and the prairies resolved themselves into vast sheets Of running water. covered with dry grass We overlook two cars. They appeared miniature in the dis tance, seemed to run backward-and were behind us on the desert Up hills we flew as if they were not 1 there, and down in a flash; then over long spaces of level land. There | would be a curve in the road, and we 1 would rise on two wheels, straighten 1 out. and roar on
 Where are we goinge" I shouted, 1 shocked out. of my legarthy by our | speed.
 ''To catch the Eastbound,' Bill yell | ed back. '1f the old boat lasts we l can flag it at the crossr roads.
 Something sprang up in me-whetb- | CT the spirit of speed or something | else, I did not question. My puisess | leaped to the throb of the motor l | felt that my life depended on our f catching that train. What we would | do after we caught it I did not con | sider. The race was all
 Away over the prairie at right angles I saw what appeared as a