It gave me a start to realize I’d done what I’d left Texas to do—I’d tracked down Pa, taken care of myself, and given my family a hand—and now my family didn’t need me so much. Probably I could go out on my own if I wanted to.

Only now that it was a choice, I didn’t think that’s what I wanted.

And it wasn’t just not having something else to do that held me. Despite having to work with Compton and for Hakes, I’d enjoyed being in the CCC.

And I was proud of what the 597th had got done. We’d turned a piece of worn-out land into something good, and we’d helped farmers like Mr. Lundgren find new ways to farm.

Part of me wanted to leave before something bad could come along to spoil things, but part of me wanted to stay around to see the job a little further along.

Anyway, I was finally ready to write to Beatty. I had something proud to tell her, even though it probably wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear.

It’s Thursday, I thought. Maybe if I put an airmail stamp on the envelope and mail it today, she’ll get it Monday, right after returning from her trip to Yellowstone.

I got my writing stuff and began. Dear Beatty, First, I am sorry I put this off so long. And I am sorry how I left Muddy Springs without

Apple interrupted me.

“Moss,” he said, “you got a minute to go over to the garage with me? There’s something I need to show you.”

He showed me a tie-rod, which was a piece kind of like a metal broom handle that kept a vehicle’s wheels going in the same direction.

“What about it?” I asked.

“Look there,” he said, tapping it with his finger. I squinted and finally saw a hairline crack, tiny enough to be almost invisible.

“Is this from the wrecked truck?” I asked.

“That’s just it. It’s not,” Apple answered. “The one we took out of the truck was broken clear through, in the same place. We figured it broke in the accident, which was a shame, because we’d put it in new just the month before.

“But then this afternoon I was over here pulling out some spare parts for the engine repairs class, and the beam from my flashlight caught this. Without the flashlight I wouldn’t have spotted it, and I doubt anyone installing it would, either.”

He said, “Moss, you know a lot about mechanics. If the truck’s tie-rod failed, couldn’t that have caused the truck to go out of control?”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “A broken tie-rod would make the steering go haywire.”