(soft bango)

- [Jackson] Sunday,
July 5th, 1903.

My Darling Swipes,

We expected our
express on number five

at three this afternoon.

But, a message this noon
from the train agent

says that he has nothing,
so it is another day.

It has been an awful
long time to us,

and I shall be mighty glad
when we are on the way again.

And, unless another
serious accident happens,

we ought to be able
to make good time

across these plains.

Well, tomorrow is
our anniversary,

and I wish I could be with you.

I wanna celebrate here,
by getting my new parts.

I shall think of you a good
deal tomorrow, as I always do.

You are the best little
wife in the world,

and I'm a mighty lucky
fella to have you.

Yes, old girl, I appreciate it,

if sometimes I have a
queer way of showing it.

Four years, tomorrow.

They have been very short
and dear ones to me.

You have done everything in
the world to make me happy.

I shall just tear up the
ground until I can be with you.

With lots of love to all,

I am yours.

Nelson.

P.S. I am not much of hand
to write love letters.

You didn't give me a
chance for much practice,

but you know dear, how I feel.

July 6th, Archer, Wyoming.

Parts did not come today.

- [Narrator] Jackson had now
been on the road for 42 days,

nearly half of the 90 days
specified in his wager.

But, he was only a third
of the way to New York,

and his car now seem to be
breaking down at every turn.

Even worse, with Tom
Fitch and Marius Croward

and their Packard following
a more direct route,

Jackson was concerned that

they might be
catching up with him.

They were.