Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1912-07-18

he considered such carelessness. And
Stanton wholly conceded with his
judgment. Only, the fact remained.
The little episode had relieved the
atmosphere, however. and restored
naturalness of speech. They shot down
the course, in the sweet country air,
and the days work had commenced.
Then Stanton had his first exhibition
Of what Floyd called tuning up his
motor.
Got her all the way up?" shouted
the mechanician, when they let out on
the first straight stretch.
Stanton nodded, fully occupied; the
speedometer was indicating eighty
four miles an hour.
Stop her-she needs fixing"
II was Floyd's hour of empire. Stan
ton brought his car to halt in an ap-
propriate situation, and the mechani-
clan sprang out to investigate the I'M
hooded power-plant.
Nov Wen try. She is good for
ninety an hour" he painted, returning.
Stanton accordingly restarted.
They spent the morning SO; speed
ing furiously, stopping for Floyd to
fuss with one thing or another, watch
ing the speedometer. Floyd listened
to the engine as to speaking voice,
translating it's plant unerringly and
going to remedy the cause. AS the as
sistant manager had said, he was
gasolene freak, clairvoyant magician
of delicate touches and manipulation.
At twelve o'clock the Mercury came
to its camp and stopped.
How is she doing?" inquired Mr..
Green. "You made that last circuit
record breaker, can tell YOU"
up to ninety-two miles an hour"
Stanton reported with brevity. at
never did so we'll before. Get out,
Floyd"
Floyd got out, flushed, tired, his
heavy hair clinging in damp rings to
his temples, but sunnily content. Mr..
Green contemplated him anxiously; he
had heard an account of Stanton's
morning greeting to his mechanician,
and he was not pleased at the pros
pect of having to find another man to
ill his place.
How" he hesitated, testing his
way, how are you-er-feeling,
Floyd?"
Hungry" answered Floyd, prompt
ly and Unexpectedly.
The boyish freshness Of it brought
smile to the lips of every one within
hearing The assistant manager
chuckled outright in his relief.
There's some kind of eats In
stand over there" volunteered a grin
ming reporter from Boston newspa-
Floyd, do you know, l guess If you
had a sister she'd be right pretty
girl"
81 have got one" was the serene
return.
you have? Can l ask what she
looks like?"
Just like me; we're twins" he re-
piled absently, his eyes dwelling on
the Mercury.
The description accorded so oddly
with his appearance, as he stood in
his rumpled attire. his serious face
stained and darkened with dust, that
there was universal roar of laughter.
For shame, to SANDER a lady!"
jeered one.
Doesn't she ever wash her face,
Floyd?" called another.
Cant you support her without max
ing her heave coal for a living?" gibed
a third.
Floyd laughed with the rest, glanc-
ing down at himself.
"You never saw me dressed for the
opera" he tossed back, as he went In
search of water.
Stanton descended from his car,
flung his mask and gauntlets on the
seat, and followed his mechanician.
He found him, presently, emerging
damp and refreshed from additions
performed in a bucket with the aid Of
some cotton-waste.
"Will you come to lunch with me?"
Stanton asked abruptly.
Floyd paused, regarding him in
grave surprise and hesitation.
Thank you" he began.
Stanton made an impatient gesture,
his eyes glinting steel-blue behind
their black lashes.
DO you want me to apologize for
bullying you this morning" he de-
manded.
Over the others face swept its
& y