Webster City freeman. [volume] (Webster City, Hamilton County, Iowa) 1884-1946, 1912-02-27

II will give you car, If you want
one" answered his uncle, quite kind
". go select any you prefer"
THANK YOU" Dick sat up, beaming.
"But I'll have to wait my turn, we've
orders ahead now. Lestrange says
I'VE no right to come In and make
some other fellow wait"
Mr.. Ffrench slowly stiffened.
eve do not require lessons in ethics
from this Lestrange," was the cold re-
buke. II shall telephone Bailey to
send up your car at once"
Rupert brought the sixty-horse-pow-
er roadster to the door, three hours
later. And Emily appreciated that Le-
strange was discreet as well as COM
pelling. when she found the black
'vod young mechanician was detained
company Dicks maiden trips:
which duty was fulfilled, incidentally,
with the fine tact of a Richelieu.
In May there was still greater ac-
cession of work at the factory. In adj
dition, the first Of June was to open
with twenty-four hour race at Beach
track and Lestrange was entered for
it. Excitement was in the air; Dick
came in the house only to eat and
sleep.
The day before the race, Mr..
Ffrench walked into the room where
his niece was reading.
II want to see Bailey" he said
briefly. do you wish to drive me
down to the factory. or shall have
Anderson bring around the limou-
sine?"
Please let us drive" she exclaimed,
rising with alacrity. II have not been
to the factory for months
Every good. You are looking well,
Emily, of late"
Surprised, soft color swept the
face she turned to him.
II am we'll 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.
It 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, 1t was a
moment before their dazzled eyes per-
ceived no one was present. This was
Bailey's private Office, and it's owner
had passed into the room beyond.
"I will wait" conceded Mr.. French.
Diminishing 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. 1T should be rein.
forced"
'It's always been strong enough,
Baileys slower tones objected. For
years. It's not thing likely to
break" a
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
to 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 1t worth while to risk 1t for a bit
OF costless steele"
The clear realism of the picture
forced pause, filled by the duh 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 IL had been on q curve instead
of a straight stretch there would
have been a wreck. As 1t was.
brought her to a stop In the ditch
There is no other thing that may not
leave a fighting chance after 1t breaks
but this leaves absolutely none.
know, you both know. that the steer
ing.wheel is the only weapon in the
| drivers grasp. II 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
1oanad hreath1oaa across hia useless