d still, following with his gaze the approach of the
beloved car he would drive no more, until it came to a halt before him.

"If we're going out, I'll fetch my muff and veils," suggested the
mechanician, leaning nearer.

"Thanks, Rupert. I am going with Rose, myself, this first time. You can
be ready this afternoon, though."

Rupert's dark face twisted in a grimace, his black eyes narrowed.

"We're laboring under some classy mistake," he dryly signified. "I was
inviting myself to go with you. As for Rose, he and I won't perch on the
same branch unless we get lynched together for horse stealing--and you
know how I don't love a horse."

The amusement underlying Gerard's expression rippled to the surface.

"All right," he acquiesced. "Detail someone else. But, Rupert----"

"Ma'am?"

"I think you will race next spring as Corrie Rose's mechanician."

Their glances encountered, equally cool and determined.

"I'll take in washing with a Chinese partner, if you and Darling French
throw me out," assured Rupert kindly. "Don't worry about my future like
that."

And he slipped across the levers out of his seat, eel-supple, as Corrie
issued from the office.

There was a mile loop of the perfect macadam track circling the factory
buildings, then the way ran off into the country roads, inches deep with
heavy sand, littered with ugly stones, rising over and pitching down
steep grades where holes and mud-patches abounded. Over this the new
Mercury cars were driven at top speed, each one reckoning many miles
before the makers allowed them to be clothed with bodies and gleaming
enamels and to be sent to the purchasers. No flaw escaped unnoticed, no
weakness passed. Jaws set under their masks, keen eyes on the road and
keen ears listening for the least false note in the tone-harmony of
their machines, the sturdy testers drove through a day's work that would
have prostrated the average motorist. Out among these men went Corrie
Rose, more self-conscious than he had ever been on race track or course.

"I never had a ninety before," he confided to Gerard, as they finished
the mile circuit. "A sixty was my biggest. She's, she's a _beauty_!"

The car slammed violently off the macadam onto the sand road, skidded in
a half-circle and righted itself with a writhing jerk.

"Mind your path," cautioned Gerard, in open mirth. "This isn't a motor
parkway. Hello!"

One of the smaller cars was coming towards them, limping back to the
s