u suspended for
unprofessional conduct."

Corrie gasped as from a dash of cold water in the face, the rough tonic
effectually bringing him out of his daze of habitual submission.

"Mr. Rose, this is not sentiment, but business," Gerard continued in his
usual tone. "Corrie is not racing to-morrow for the first time, or for
the fifth or sixth, this season. He is the cordially liked and respected
comrade of his fellow-drivers--there is not one who would not laugh in
your face at the idea of fearing to have him among them. I tell you, for
the rest, that any other man on the course might let his nerves trick
his self-control; Corrie Rose never will. I know him, now, better than
you yet can. But," he snatched a rapid survey of Corrie, then lifted
his hand from the other's arm and drew back, "he is not a child; let
him decide."

"Corrie----" his father recommenced, his voice choked.

But Corrie had found himself. He laid one firm, gauntleted hand on the
beloved steering-wheel and turned to Mr. Rose the serious countenance
and steadfast eyes of the new Corrie of the Mercury's making. With the
other hand he pressed the dog's great head closer to him; perhaps only
Allan Gerard saw and translated the pathos of that unconscious gesture.

"I would do anything else, sir," he stated simply. "But Gerard has
stayed by me through the worst time I will ever have. I know--you gave
me money; but he helped me _live_. Afterward I will do whatever you bid
me, now I cannot leave him without a driver on the eve of a race. All
the more," his speaking glance went to Gerard, "all the more I must
stay, because he would rather hold me strictly to a business contract
than remind me that I owe him anything or that it is through me that he
is not driving this car himself."

There was a moment of absolute silence. Then the rustle of soft garments
came with Flavia's swift crossing from the doorway where she and Rupert
had witnessed the contest. Straight to the side of the gray machine she
went, and clasping her little hands over her brother's arm, raised to
him the high trust and unchanging love of her regard.

"Dearest, I hope you win, to-morrow," she said bravely and sweetly. "But
kiss me, Corrie, and come home afterward. We need you, papa and I--and
Allan."

"Other Fellow," he thanked her, under his breath, and leaned down to
give the caress.

Gerard and Mr. Rose were looking at each other.

"You win," conceded the older man, without rancor