PROLOGUEThe Young Man at the Stern
A THICK wet night on the southwest coast of Lake Michigan a dozen years ago a wind that sweeps over the pitching lake and on over the dim white beach with a rush that whirls the sand up and away Trees are bending up there on the bluff The sand and the rain are in the airor do we feel the spray from yonder line of breakers a hundred yards away
And deep in a mudhole on the lonely road that skirts the bluffthe fo...