enue, which was for the
moment fortunately clear of other vehicles. It took a crossing at a
single leap, missed a dazed pedestrian by an inch, and shot on as mad a
thing as the man who ran it. It was clearly only a matter of minutes
that this could last. Bending low, the madman, with still enough
cunning left to know how to manage the machine, held it to its highest
speed. But his arm was weakening. He did not have the physical
strength to hold steady the vibrating steering gear. The big car began
to tack.

Donaldson saw the girl's eyes upon him. They were confident with an
instinct that is woman's sixth sense. A man has not lived until he has
seen that look in a woman's eyes. Nor has a man suffered until he
realizes that he must disappoint that look. Donaldson had never been
in an automobile in his life. He knew no more how to control one than
he did an aeroplane. And the arc-lights were flashing by at the rate
of one every four seconds--and a madman at the wheel--and a woman's
eyes upon him.

Donaldson was naturally a man of some courage, but it is doubtful if
under ordinary conditions this situation would not have brought the
cold sweat to his brow. As it was, he was conscious of only two
emotions; an appreciation of the grim humor which had called upon him
so early in his week to fulfill his oath, and a grinding resentment at
the Fate which had thrust him into a position where he should show so
impotent before those eyes. As far as personal fear went, it was nil.
He was as oblivious to possible pain, possible death, as though he were
now merely recalling a dream. Such contingencies had been decided the
moment he swallowed the scarlet syrup. Fear had been annihilated in
him because the most he had to lose was this next six days. He was too
good a gambler to resent, in a fair game, the turn of the cards against
him.

He stepped past her and out upon the running board, feeling his way
along to the empty seat. The machine swayed dizzily. The wind tore
off his hat and tugged at his coat, nearly dragging him to the ground
which flowed beneath him as smoothly as a fly belt. He could not have
made that distance yesterday with the assurance of to-day. He swung
himself into the empty seat.

He had but one thing in mind; he knew that these big machines, in spite
of their tremendous power, were as nicely adjusted as watches. They
had their vital spots, their hearts. If only he could find this
vulner