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Show Flying - 14 Finally he pulls the jeep to the side of the street and gets out so John Henry can take over. "The heat's got me, sir, I can't go on," says Sergeant Armstrong crawling into the back seat. Soon out- of Stanton and rolling once more on the endless desert like nothing John Henry ever saw before, a desert not of sand dunes but mostly of scrub grass and an occasional stunted tree, a plain flat as a board and limitless, with one narrow road and two deep ditches headed west across it in close company. If Tex is anywhere along here I can see him miles in advance and get ready to meet him. John Henry likes to drive. He can feel the forces that work on the car as it leaps and bounces along the rough and steeply crowned road at seventy miles an hour. He anticipates the swerves Instead of correcting them. He holds the steering wheel lightly with his fingertips, giving the jeep loose rein, urging it in the right direction with his knees and his shoulders and the strength of his will, only grabbing hold when a cross wind shoves them suddenly toward the ditch. John Henry lets the natural forces do most of the work of driving, knowing that they tend to keep a car on the road if you only let it alone as much as possible, if you trust to the essential Tightness of things. If you ride the groove. Wilberforce, who is in deadly and continuous fear of |