Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1912-02-15

In Ma. mere was stlll greater &C
cession work at the factory. In adj
dition. I first of June was 70 open
with T. nty.four hour race at Beach
track. ar I.estrange was entered for
it. Excl ament was in the air; Dick
came In the house only to eat and
sleep.
The .ay before the race. Mr..
French walked into the room where
his niece was reading.
81 want 10 see Bailey" he said
briefly DO you wish to drive me
down TO the factory. or shall ! have
Anderson bring around the lmou-
sine?"
please let us drive" she exclaimed,
rising with alacrity 81 have not been
10 the factory for months"
Very good. You are looking we'll,
Emily. of late"
Surprised a soft color swept the
face she turned to him.
81 am well. Dear, think we are all
better this spring"
Perhaps" said Ethan French. His
bitter gray eyes passed deliberately
over the large room with all its traces
of family life extending back to pre-
Colonial times, but he said no more.
II was an exquisite morning, TOO vir-
ginal for June too richly warm for
May. When the two exchanged the
sunny road for the factory office, a
north room none too light. it was
moment before their dazzled eyes per-
ceived no one was present. This was
Bailey's private office, and its owner
had passed into the room beyond.
81 will wait" conceded Mr.. French,
dismlssing the boy who had ushered
them in. "Sit down, Emily; Bailey
will return directly, no doubt"
But Emily had already sat down, for
she knew the voice speaking beyond
the half-open door, and that the long
prevented meeting was now immi-
nent.
at will not do Lestrange was stat
ing definitely. at should be rein
forced"
Its always been strong enough"
Baileys slower tones objected. For
years. It's not a thing likely to
break"
mot likely to break? Look at last
years record, Mr.. Bailey. and tell me
that. A broken steering-knuckle killed
Brook in Indiana, another sent Little
10 the hospital in Massachusetts, the
same thing wrecked the leader at the
last Beach race and dashed him
through the fence. Do you know what
It means to the driver OF a machine
hurting itself along the narrow verge
of destruction, when the steering
wheel suddenly turns useless in his
grasp? Can you feel the sick helpless
ness. the confronting of death, the
compressed second before the crash?
Is it worth while TO risk 1t for bit
OF costless steel?"
The clear realism of the picture
forced pause, filled by the dull roar
and throb through the machinery
crowded building.
They were not our cars that broke,
any of them" Bailey insisted.
Not our cars, no. But the steering
knuckle of my own machine broke un-
der my hands last March, on the road,
and if had been on a curve instead
OF a straight stretch there would
have been wreck. AS it was, /
brought her TO a stop in the ditch.
There is no other thing that may not
leave a fighting chance after it breaks
but this leaves absolutely none. |
know you both know, that the steer
ing-wheel is the only weapon in the
drivers grasp. If it fails him, he
goes out and his mechanician with
him"
Emily paled shrinking. She re-
membered the road under the naples
and Lestrange's laughing face as he
leaned GREATNESS across his useless
wheel That was what 1t had meant,
then, the lightly treated episode!
You'd better fix it like he wants
it." advised Dicks disturbed tones.
Remember. he's got to drive the car
Friday and Saturday, Bailey, not U.S."
IT'S not alone for my racer I'm
speaking, but for every car that leaves
the shop" Lestrange caught him up.
I'm not fiinching; I've driven the car
before and ] will again. II may hold
for ever, that part. bat I've tested 1t
and it's a weak point-take the warn
ing for what it's worth"
There was movement as II he
rose with the last word. Emily laid
her hand on the arm Of the chair,
turning her excited dark eyes on her
uncle. Surely if ever Mr.. French was
to meet his manager. this was the mo-
ment; when Lestrange's ringing argu-
ment was still in their ears. his splen-
did force of earnestness still vibrant
In the atmosphere. And suddenly she
wanted them to meet, passionately
wanted Ethan Ffrench's liking for this
man.
Uncle" she began. "Unde@"
But it was not Lestrange's light
step that halted on the threshold.
"Why, didn't know" exclaimed
Bailey. Excuse me, Mr.. French,
they didn't tell me you were down"
He glanced over his shoulder; as
he pulled shut the door Emily fancied
A n. -