Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1912-02-01

into ditch on a back stretch, three
miles from a doctor. People around
picked the men out OF the wreck, and
Lestrange came up to find that the
driver was likely to die from a sew.
cred artery before help got there.
Emily. he stopped, stopped. with vio-
tory In his hands. had the Italian lift
ed into the mechanician's seat, and
Rupert held him I'm while they dashed
around the course to the hospital. He
got him there fifteen minutes before
an ambulance could have reached him,
and the man will get we'll But Lee
strange had lost six minutes. He had
rushed straight to the doctors, given
them the man. and gone right on. but
he had lost six minutes. When peo-
pie realized what he'd done. they went
wild. Every ono thought he'd lost the
race, but they cheered him until they
couldn't shout. And he kept on dr1v-
ing. It's all here" he waved the
gaudy sheet. "The papers full Of It..
He had half an hour to make up six
minutes. and he did It. He came in
nineteen seconds ahead OF the near
est car. The crowd swarmed out on
the course and fell all over him. Old
Bailey's nearly crazy"
To see Dick excited would have
been marvel enough to hold his audi
tors mute, If the story itself had not
possessed a quality to stir even non
sporting blood. Emily could only sit
and gaze at the headlines of the ex-
tended newspaper, her dark eyes wide
and shining, her soft lips apart.
"Ie telegraphed to Bailey" Dick
added in the pause. "Ten words: First
across line in Georgia race. Car in
fine shape. Lestrange. That was
all"
Mr. Ffrench deliberately passed his
coffee-pot to Emily
"You had better take your break
fast" he advised. at is unusual to
see you noticing business affairs,
Dick; might say unprecedented l
am glad If Bailey's new man is cap
able of his work at least. | suppose
do less than take an injured person to
the hospital. Why are you putting
sugar in my cup, Emily?"
81 don't know" she acknowledged
helplessly.
ct didn't mean to disturb any one. z"
said Dick, sulky and resentful. It'll
be a big thing though for our cars,
Bailey says. I didn't know you dis
liked Lestrange."
Mr.. French stiffened in his chair.
ct have not sufficient interest in the
man to dislike him." was the cold re-
buke. eve will change the subject"
Emily bent her head, remedying her
mistake with the coffee. She compre-
hended that her uncle had conceived
one of his strong, silent antipathies
for the young manager, and she was
sorry. Sorry, although, remembering
Bailey's unfortunate speech the night
Lestrange's engagement was proposed,
she was not surprised. But she
looked across to Dick sympathetical-
ly. So sympathetically, that after
breakfast he followed her into the H.
brary, the colored journals in his
hand.
whats the matter with the old
gentleman this morning. he COM
planned. "He wants the business to
succeed, doesn't he? IF he does, he
ought to like what Lestrange is doing
for it. What's the matter with him?"
Emily shook back her yellow curls,
turning her gaze on him.
"You might guess, Dickie. He is
lonely"
Lonely! Hell"
All the feminine impulse to defend
fared up.
"Why not?" she exclaimed with pas
sion. "Who has he got? Who stands
with him in his house? No wonder he
can not bear the man who is hired to
do what a French should be doing.
1t is not the racing driver he dis
likes, but the manager And do not
you blame him, Dick French"
Quite aghast, he stared after her az
she turned away to the nearest win
dow. But presently he followed her
over, still holding the papers.
Don't you want to read about the
racer" he ventured
Smiling, though her lashes were
III