L.J., standing in the cab of the auger wagon, tunes thumping out the dust, going over the commodity report, taking a sip of tea, when the auto drive was triggered by the harvester and the wagon took off like a jerk. Auto wagon suspend, and he took over the wheel, slowed down, put the cup in a holder, snapped shut the lid, wiped off his face with the bottom of his shirt and made a wide ark, angling in with the rows, positioning the wagon exactly underneath where the harvesters unfolding auger arm would soon be, auto wagon engage. When both the wagon and the harvester synced speed, the harvester's auger started up with a high raspy sound, multitudes of kernels being forced through the arm by the rotating auger. Splat, just like a giant bean bag had been pitched into the wagon, made the whole rig whence, and dance a jig till it was too full, and had to sit down for the night. L.J. turned the cab about ten minutes to right to take a look at dusty gold being barfed out of that tube. Wait for.. last trickle, auto wagon suspend, and take off like a yak out of hell. Fly down the row at twenty M.P.H. with around forty tons of grain in the back. At the end, slow, make the turn, hop and bounce until lined up with the end row.