the master mechanic of the unbeautiful,
created mainly to shut off the view of mankind from what is really worth
looking at. Jerry read the dulled lettering mechanically: "Santa Fe"
with its symbol of a fat cross in a circle, "Iron Mountain," "Great
Northern," "Rock Island," "Frisco," "Union Pacific," "Grand Trunk," came
creeping by. "New York Central," "Lehigh Valley," "Pennsylvania Line."
These took her back to "Eden" and the Winnowoc country. The station
building shook; the ugly old cars slam-banged a bit faster back and
forth; the engine, with the breath almost knocked out of it, was puffing
down by the switch, and the whole body behind it quivered to a
standstill. But Jerry Swaim's tear-blurred eyes were seeing only the
green fields of the Darby country-place and the rose-arbor and Eugene
Wellington. A voice loud, but not unpleasant, and a laugh, a merry,
catching, giggling guffaw, drove the picture of "Eden" and all that
belonged to it into "viewless air" that went flapping and flaring across
the Kansas landscape.

"You don't mean it! He, he! Haw!" Everybody must smile now. "The old
Sage Brush local is locoed 'way up toward S'liny. Engine shortage, car
shortage, common sense shortage. He, he! And we must ride in that
sunflower de luxe limited standing out there. Come on, Thelmy. You can
take lower nothin', car one-half. We'll soar in now while the soarin's
good."

Jerry looked at the bunch of grubs for the first time. One had to see
where that big gloom-chasing giggle came from. Thelma was a spotlessly
clean, well-made country product, wherein the girl had easily given
place to the woman, erect, full-bosomed, strong of frame. The hazel eyes
were arched over by heavy brown brows. There was no rosebud curve to the
rather wide mouth that showed a set of magnificent white teeth. The
brown hair wound braid on braid about the head was proof of the glory of
Saint Paul's scriptural decree. Not that Jerry Swaim really noted any of
these features. She merely saw a country girl--a not offensive native.
The native's comrade, he with the big-laugh fixtures, was short and
stout, with a round face on the front side of a round head, set on top
of a tight-built body. Grub though he was, Jerry involuntarily smiled
with him. That far the fat little man controlled everybody. But the
funny little strut in his gait as he walked was irresistible. The third
passenger, the grubbiest of the three grubs, was a nondescript of whose
presen