The collegian, looking up to decline, met the countryman’s eye, and for the first time the two studied each other steadily.
“I will stay with you, if you please,” he said in sudden change of mind. 31
They drove out, slowly, into the frosty night, the sound of the other wagons rattling over frozen roads coming pleasantly to their ears. Overhead countless stars lit up the earth and sky, almost as brightly as moonlight.
“I suppose you are husking corn these days,” initiated the collegian, perfunctorily.
“Yes,” was the short answer.
They rode on again in silence, the other wagons rumbling slowly away into the distance until their sound came only as a low humming from the frozen earth.
“Prices pretty good this season?” questioned the college man, tentatively.
Landers flashed around on him almost fiercely.
“In Heaven’s name, man,” he protested, “give me credit for a thought outside my work––” He paused, and his voice became natural: “––a thought such as other people have,” he finished, sadly.
The two men looked steadily at each other, a multitude of conflicting emotions on the face of the collegian. He could not have been more surprised had a clothing dummy raised its 32 voice and spoken. Landers turned away and looked out over the frosty prairie.