The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1913-03-28
CHAPTER !.
The Man Who Dared.

WudL r.! u0 SuOuttUp dDON0 th0 poi
sating roar Of the eleven racing ma
chimes lined up before the judges
stand. "What?"
There was furry around the cen
trail car, whose driver leaned from his
seat to stare down at the man who
bad slipped from beside him to the
ground. The great crowd congestine
the grand-stand pressed closer to the
barrier, staring also, commenting and
conjecturing.
THE mechanician of the Mercury is
OF his carl"
Tainted"
Fell"
''The automobiles hadn't started; he
must be sick"
The referee was already pushing his
way back, bringing the report from
the hastily summoned surgeon.
Heart disease he announced right
and left. "Stanton's mechanician Just
dropped off his seat, dead.
But Stanton himself had already
swung out Of his car, with the ener.
getic decision that marked his every
movement.
MY man is out" he eerselv stated
to the starter. 1--WE got to run over
to my camp and get another. Will
you hold the start for me?"
The question was rather demand
than request. There was scarcely
one among the vast audience who
would not have felt the sparkle gone
from this strong black wine of sport
they had come to sip, If Ralph Stanton
had been withdrawn from the twenty
four-hour contest. He had not only
fame as skilful and scientific racer;
he had the reputation Of being the
most spectacularly reckless driver in
America, whose death could be but a
question Of time and whose record of
accidents and victories verged on the
appalling He knew his value as an
attraction, and the starter knew it,
although preserving impassivity.
Five minutes" the official con-
ceded, and drew out his watch.
Already a stream of men were run
ming toward the Mercury camp with
the news. Stanton sprang into his
machine. deftly sent it forward out of
the line, and shot around into the en-.
trance to the huge oval field edged by
the Beach track; mile of white rib
bon bordering green medallion.
The row Of electric-lighted tents,
each numbered and named for its own
racing car, was in turmoil of excite
ment. But most agitated was the
group before the tent marked 80,
Mercury"
"Durand's down and out-give me
another man." called Stanton, halting
his noisy, flaming car. Quick, you
But no one stepped forward from
the cluster Of factory men and me.
chanics. Only the assistant manager
of the Mercury company responded
to the demand:
Yes. go; one Of you boys. I'll make
1t right with you. You, Jones'"
I'm married, sir" refused Jones
succinctly.
We'll. you. then, Walters. Good
heavens, man! what do sou mean?"
For the burly Walters backed away,
actually pale.
'11l dig potatoes, first, SIR"
why, you used to racer"
mot with Stanton, sir"
There was a low murmur Of appro.
val among his mates, and a drawing
together for support Stanton stepped
down from his car, snatching off his
mask to show a dark, strong face
grim with anger and contempt.
you wretched, backboneless COW.
ards!" he hurled at them, his blue
black eyes flashing over the group.
DO you know what I and the COM
pany stand to lose if I'm disqualified
for lack Of one Of you jellyfish to sit
beside me and pump oil? Isn't there
a man in the camp? I'll give fifty dol
lars myself to the one who goes. a
hundred If win"
'I'l promise twice that" eagerly
supplemented Green, the assistant
manager. He had private bets on
Stanton.
Not one Of the clustered workmen
moved.
bitterly and comprehensively. I'll re-
peat that offer to the man who will
go for the first three hours only, and
meanwhile we'll send to New York
and find a red-blooded male"
The men looked at one another. but
shook their heads.
mo? You won't? You work your
miserable bodies three months to earn
what l offer for three hours. What's
the matter with you, don't risk my
neck?" He turned, sending his pow
erful voice ringing down the line
Here, hunt the paddock, all of you
two hundred dollars for man to ride
the next three hours with mel"
You can't take a man from another
camp, Stanton" protested the frantic
Mr.. Green. He might trick you, hurt
the car"
His appeal went down the wind un
needed. except for one glance from the
racers cleaning eyes.
He won't trick me-" said Stanton.
The crowded stands were a bulk OF
swaying, seething impatience. The
paddock was in an uproar. the Mer
curry camp the center Of interest But
no volunteers answered the call The
painting machine, its hood wrapped in
jets Of violet fame. headlights anC
tail-lights shedding vivid illumination
around the figure Of it's baff1ed master
quivered with impotent life ant
strength. Raging, Stanton stood
watch in hand, his face a set study IL
scorn.
Suddenly the harsh rasp of the Off
cisl klaxon scared above the bubbub
warning. 6ummoning.