Over a fine china plate with the ATSF’s circle cross logo on his side of the linen draped table, Wade watched Darnell pick at his food. He felt sure the quality of the meal was not what spoiled the other man’s appetite. Always practical, Wade had refused to let the smoldering heat of their interrupted make-out session keep him from eating. It might not be quite as good as Darnell’s best meal, but it sure wasn’t hog slop. Finally, the silent waiter took their plates, brought after-dinner coffee, and went on to do like services for other passengers. It almost scalded him, but Wade gulped that coffee. Darnell was barely slower.
“Let’s go.” Wade stood and turned down the aisle toward their car. Outside, dusk had fallen, and the rolling green farmland faded to shades of gray. The scenery held
