the gathered hosts of some mighty army, suddenly peaceful until the
call of combat. A thrill shot through Barry Houston. His life had
been that of the smooth spaces, of the easy ascent of well-paved
grades, of streets and comforts and of luxuries. The very raggedness
of the thing before him lured him and drew him on. He turned, he
smiled, with a quiet, determined expression of anticipation, yet of
grimness.

"They've got me," came quietly. "I'm--I'm going to make the try!"

The villager grunted. His lips parted as though to issue a final
warning. Then, with a disgruntled shake of the head, he turned away.

"Ain't no use arguin' with you Easterners," came at last. "You come
out here an' take one look at these here hills an' think you can beat
Ole Lady Nature when she's sittin' pat with a royal flush. But go
on--I ain't tryin' t' stop you. 'Twouldn't be nothin' but a waste o'
breath. You've got this here conquerin' spirit in your blood--won't be
satisfied till you get it out. You're all th' same--I 've seen fellows
with flivvers loaded down till th' springs was flat, look up at them
hills an' figure t' get over an' back in time for supper. So go
on--only jis' remember this: once you get outside of Dominion an' start
up th' grade, there ain't no way stations, an' there ain't no
telephones, ner diner service, ner somebody t' bring y' th' evenin'
paper. You're buckin' a brace game when y' go against Hazard Pass at a
time when she ain't in a mood f'r comp'ny. She holds all th' cards,
jis' remember that--an' a few thet ain't in th' deck. But jis' th'
same," he backed away as Barry stepped into the racer and pressed a
foot on the starter, "I'm wishin' you luck. You'll need it."

"Thanks!" Houston laughed with a new exhilaration, a new spirit of
desire. "It can't do any more than kill me."

"Nope." The villager was shouting now above the exhaust of the
powerful engine, "But it shore can take a delight in doin' that! S'
long!"

"So long!" The gears meshed. A stream of smoke from the new oil spat
out for a second. Then, roaring and chortling with the beginning of
battle, the machine swept away toward the slight turn that indicated
the scraggly end of the little town of Dominion, and the beginning of
the first grade.

The exhilaration still was upon Barry Houston. He whistled and sang,
turning now and then to view the bright greenness of the new-leafed
aspens, to watch the circling sallies of the