you
down and not because of anything you claim, understand."

The man grasped the money eagerly, peering up with more admiration than
sullenness.

"You've got a good punch, mister," he conceded. "I'll get out. I
wouldn't have come, only I thought you'd really done what they said,
that time."

Corrie drew back sharply, staring at the other. His right hand was cut
and bleeding from the blow he had dealt, red drops trickled and fell as
he stood, but he did not seem aware of the fact, either then or when he
turned away to take his place at the steering-wheel. Gerard took the
seat beside him without comment; he fancied he could imagine very
exactly what Corrie Rose, gentleman, was enduring.

But whatever Corrie had to endure then or at any time, he was quite
masculine enough to hurry it out of sight. At the house, he turned to
Gerard his usual matter-of-fact glance.

"I will put the car in the garage and go over to the factory for a
while," he said. "Mr. Edwards was going to examine that throttle which
jarred open--on the Titan, I mean--so it would be ready for me to start
early to-morrow. I told him I would be over, this evening."

"As you like. But do not stay too long; the house is lonely without you.
And, do something for that cut hand, Corrie, or it may make you
trouble."

They looked at each other.

"Thank you," acknowledged the younger.

The Titan was ready next morning, as due, and the early start was made.

The great machine had run for several days without especial incident,
but this morning Devlin's nervous incompetency manifested itself in a
new direction. He forgot to fill the oil-tank of the car he served as
mechanician, before Corrie took it out. One of the testers drove into
the busy courtyard, about ten o'clock, shouting the information that the
Titan was stuck eight miles out on the back road and Rose wanted the
emergency car to bring him oil.

Sardonic of eye, caustic of tongue, Rupert himself attended to the
carrying out of the request and watched the rescuing car depart on its
mission. Half an hour later the Titan rolled past, missing fire and
running with a sound like a sick gatling gun. Bare-headed and without
his mask, Corrie was driving with one hand and striving to aid his
mechanician's efforts with the other, as they swept around the mile
track. In gritting exasperation Rupert stared after them, then snatched
up a red flag and ran to the edge of the road.

Gerard, notified of troub