y one going to town?" he called, his imperious young voice ringing
across the open spaces.

"No," came the discouraging monosyllable from the official stand.

"No one?"

"No."

The driver slowly sent his car forward, temper in every crisp movement,
his gaze travelling over the empty tiers of seats, to fall at last upon
Gerard and there rest. With a jerk he jammed down the brake and leaned
from the machine. Thick fair hair lay across his boyish forehead above
level dark brows, his candid dark-blue eyes went direct to their goal:
the metal badge fastened to Gerard's lapel and just visible under the
edge of his gray overcoat.

"You're wearing a chauffeur's license," he challenged.

"I surely am. Want to engage a man?" was the grave response.

The boy's arch glance swept the other's face, so definitely stamped
with the habit of mastery.

"If I did I'd ask you to recommend one," he retorted mirthfully. "I'm
not as much mixed as I sounded; I wasn't thinking of hiring you. But I
did want to ask if you would ride into the city with me. My mechanician
is busy over there, I can't find any one else to go with me, and I've
got to get my car down to the Renard shop to-night."

"Now I wonder," Gerard mused aloud, "why you want any one with you."

"Because I won't be eighteen for a month," he gave prompt explanation.
"Under the latest law freak turned out at Albany, I'm too young to drive
a motor vehicle safely on the public roads unless I have a licensed
chauffeur alongside of me. Oh, of course you'd laugh!"

"I was only recalling what I've just been watching you do on the track,"
apologized Gerard, steadying his countenance. "And speculating upon how
the average chauffeur would like to try your feats. I shall appreciate
the honor of riding into town with Mr. Rose and his rose."

The driver colored and laughed together, as his guest took the seat
beside him.

"They're always ragging me--I mean the professional racers and motor
men," he avowed, in a burst of resentful confidence. "They called me
kid amateur, and rosebud, and girlie, until I just had my car painted
pink and bought these pink suits and told them to go ahead getting all
the fun they could. I'll get my turn to-morrow night." He twisted his
car through the curved gateway, viciously expert.

"You are planning to win?"

There was no trace of mockery in the level intonation of the inquiry,
yet Rose flushed again.

"I want to, and I mean to try," he answere