“He didn’t hear the truck come up behind him. In fact, he usually didn’t hear much of anything when he walked. He had been on the road for a week now, though three days of that had been spent in one spot, working for day wages. He found that he could easily walk twenty or twenty-five miles a day and still have time enough to set up an orderly campsite for the night and find some fresh water. He could do thirty if he pushed it, but he seldom had a reason to push it. Whatever it was he was aft...er, all he knew for sure was that he hadn’t seen it yet. He slipped into his long-legged, loping stride and drifted into a world of his own, almost a trance state. Sometimes he would suddenly snap out of it, wondering where he was, and he would chide himself for missing out on seeing new sights, new parts of the country, though in truth, most of what he had seen so far had looked the same. Rolling prairie, oceans of grain or stubble patterned with header stacks or standing shocks of cut wheat, waiting for the threshers.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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