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Ranching for Sylvia by Harold Bindloss
page 59 of 418 (14%)
touchstone. I mean that the sort of qualities that make one popular in
England may not prove of much use here."

"Dick lost his crop; that accounts for a good deal," George said
shortly.

Edgar, knowing how staunch he was to his friends, changed the subject;
and when the light grew dim they went back to the hotel. Breakfasting
soon after six the next morning, they took their places in a light,
four-wheeled vehicle, for which three persons' baggage made a rather
heavy load, and drove away with the hired man. The grass was wet with
dew, the air invigoratingly cool, and for a time the fresh team carried
them across the waste at an excellent pace. When he had got used to
the frantic jolting, Edgar found the drive exhilarating. Poplar
bluffs, little ponds, a lake shining amid tall sedges, belts of
darkgreen wheat, went by; and while the horses plunged through tall
barley-grass or hauled the vehicle over clods and ruts, the same vast
prospect stretched away ahead. It filled the lad with a curious sense
of freedom: there was no limit to the prairies--one could go on and on,
across still wider stretches beyond the horizon.

By and by, however, they ran in among low sandy hills, dotted with
dwarf pines here and there, and the pace slackened. The grass was
thin, the wheels sank in deep, loose sand, and the sun was getting
unpleasantly hot. For half an hour they drove on; and then the team
came to a standstill, necked with spume, at the foot of a short, steep
rise. Edgar alighted and found the heat almost insupportable. There
was glaring sand all about him, and the breeze which swept the prairie
was cut off by the hill in front.

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