t I'd 'a' had him runnin' the 'Guzzuh' instead of that little
chicken-breasted chaffer they three-shelled on to me in Los Angeles. I
hired him because they said I 'd better take him along until I was some
better acquainted with the machine. The Guzzuh ain't no ordinary
bronc'."

"The 'Guzzuh'?" queried Dr. Marshall.

"Uhuh. That's what I christened her. She's a racer. She's sixty
hoss-power, and sometimes I reckon I could handle sixty hosses easier to
once than I could her. We was lopin' along out in the desert, 'bout
fifty miles an hour by the leetle clock on the dashboard, when all of a
sudden she lays back her ears and she bucks. I leans back and keeps her
head up, but it ain't no use. She gives a jump or two and says
'_Guzzuh!_' jest like that, and quits. I climbs out and looked her over.
She sure was balky. I was glad she said _somethin'_, if it was only
'Guzzuh,' instead of quittin' on me silent and scornful. Sounded like
she was apologizin' for stoppin' up like that. I felt of her chest and
she was pretty much het up. When she cooled off, I started her
easy--sort of grazin' along pretendin' we wasn't goin' to lope again.
When she got her second wind I give her her head, and she let out and
loped clean into the desert town, without makin' a stumble or castin' a
shoe. Paid three thousand for her in Los. She is guaranteed to do eighty
miles on the level, and she does a whole lot of other things that ain't
jest on the level. She'd climb a back fence if you spoke right to her. A
sand-storm ain't got nothin' on her when she gets her back up."

"Your car must be unique," suggested Walter Stone.

"Nope. She ain't a 'Yew-neck.' I forget her brand. I ain't had her very
long. But I can run her now better than that little
two-dollar-and-a-half excuse they lent me in Los. He loses his nerve
comin' up the canon there. You see the Guzzuh got to friskin' round the
turns on her hind feet. So I gives him a box of candy to keep him quiet
and takes the reins myself. I got my foot in the wrong stirrup on the
start--was chokin' off her wind instead of feedin' her. Then I got my
foot on the giddap-dingus and we come. The speed-clock's limit is ninety
miles an hour and we busted the speed clock comin' down that last
grade. But we're here."

Dr. Marshall and Walter Stone gazed at each other. They laughed.
Overland smiled condescendingly. Anne Marshall had recourse to her
handkerchief, but Louise did not smile.

"Does Billy ever dr