Evening star., 1925-11-01
TT took Tom Meredith three years
- l.;

| iii lilS HlOOllllSIil.
| * !: x x
1T took Tom Meredith three wears
| to find himself.
Somehow the word drifted back to
Calora that he was dead-and in time
Diana came to accept this as THE ex-
PLANTATION of why he had not written.
Hers had been a dream romance, as
| fragile and mysterious as the moon
| light. She preferred to think of him
as dead, rather than faithless.
He might well have died, but for
the prank of fate that snatched him
from the darkness. The famous
| desert classic" was being run in
those days-the Los Angeles to
Phoenix road race-a 19-hour duel
against time and the obstacles of ma
ture. Half way on the route was the
tiny desert town in which Tom Mere
dith was stranded. He was among
the station loiterers when jacques
Fournoy, the Flying Frenchman,
came flashing up at dusk in the
| Golden Submarine. one side of the
car crushed fiat, and his mechanic
unconscious from the pain of a broken
arm. The officials had made no pro
vision for substitute mechanics, and
/ they said SO. But the great French
iile.li = blbOu NdS up. w nat 1 care
for meChanic!' he roared Give me
some fool to pump oil and look back
and / get out of here"
Destiny took young Meredith by
the shoulder and showed him forward
He said nothing, but climbed in be
side the Frenchman, who pounded
him on the back, and shouted: "Bien,
Now we win or we die. and 1 don't
care which. Allonsr'
They departed in a cloud of dust
just as the nearest pursuer rolled in
behind them. What n ride. Moon and
stars and the rush of the night wind
on the desert. An exhilaration of soul
under speed such as the dreaming
vagabond of Calora had never con
ceived. Covered with dust and oil and
glory, they rolled into Phoenix to find
the gathered thousands awaiting them
and the CheCkered flag displayed in
their honor.
What l tell you?" said Fournoy.
'Therace-she is ours. Now. my young
frien', we have time to get acquaint',
BY gar, you bring me luck
Looking into the eyes Of the gallant
t'renchman, and grasping the hand
that was extended. young Meredith
dedicated himself at that moment TO
Hermes, God of Speed.
He rode with Fournoy. absorbing all
the daring FrenChman's methods, un-
til the day came when they overturned
during the Grand Prix in France, and
Tourney, hopelessly crushed under the
driving wheel. whispered to him:
"Adieu. mon brave, Play ze game,
and | hope you be luckier zan /"
Net long afterward Meredith re-
turned to America, established con
nections with the famous Butterfly
team. and eventually drove his first
winning race. Not until then did he
break the long silence that had marked
the passing years. In a delicious mo-
ment of self-justitication he scissored
all the clippings and mailed them to
Diana, the one person in all the world
who he felt would understand.
Back came letter full of the praise
for which he hungered. He fancied
that certain lines were tear-stained.
and ne wondered why-wondering un-
I'll he read the clipping she had in
closed, a faded item from the Calora
Sun that described the marriage of
Diana Davis and our esteemed fell
low townsman, Peter Pringley, cashier
of the Calora Bank"
So her father had had his way after
all. Tom Meredith could picture the
tragedy as clearly as though he had
been an eyewitness. Diana immolat-
ing herself on the altar of filial
OpcuItltt
1t was shortly thereafter that Wild
Tom Meredith rose to fame as the
Black Ghost of the speedways. And
the winning of the knickerbocker
cup race had placed almost within
his grasp the triple-A, crown symbol
of sovereignty on the speedways of
America. He needed but one more vic
tory to establish him as the king.
Now you begin to understand what
l. 1,<rl~
what was in the heart of Diana,
5000 miles away, when she inspired
the little town of Calora to awaken
from its Rip Van Wrinkle slumber,
convert the old race track into
motordrome and summon back for
public homage the man she had
bade, as a boy, go forth alone
Waly King took all the credit
for the idea, but it was Diana who
brought the promoter into town, and
told him the history of Calora, and