The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1912-12-13

his niece was reading.
Il 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.
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.
1t was an exquisite morning, too viz
ginal for June, too richly warm Tor
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 watt" conceded Mr.. French,
dismissirg 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.
cit will not do" Lestrange was stat
ing definitely. 1T should be rein
forced"
TITS always been strong enough"
Bailey's slower tones objected. 'F'or
years. It's not 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
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 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 it for a bit
of costless steel?"
The clear realism Of the picture
forced a pause. filed by the dull roar
and throb through the machinery
crowded building.
'sThey were not our cars that broke,
any of them" Bailey insisted.
mot our cars, no. But the steering
knuckle of my own machine broke un-
der my hands last March, on the road,
and it had been on curve instead
of straight stretch there would
have been a wreck. AS it was, l
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 it 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."
TITS 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 l will again. 1t may hold
for ever, that part, but 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