le with the big car, arrived from his office in
time to see the Titan halt, flagged, and the lightning strike Devlin.

"Get out," snarled Rupert, his dark face black with scorn, swinging one
small arm in a wide gesture. "I ain't had any explanation of what you're
doing behind anything except a baby-carriage, and I don't want it. Get
out and don't come back. Quick!"

Dazed, Devlin obeyed. Rupert dragged open the motor's hood, busied
himself for thirty seconds and crashed the metal cover shut again. As he
flung himself into the seat beside the stupefied Corrie, he first caught
sight of Gerard standing on the stone portal.

"Better send someone to hold down the yard," he sharply advised. "I
ain't going to be there. What?"

Corrie had sufficient presence of tact to send the car forward without
pause or comment, not daring to look at his new companion. But he
gathered a jumbled view of Gerard's mirthful face and of Devlin standing
sulkily at bay before his grinning mates.

When the Mercury Titan returned from its morning's work, it was running
with the velvet purr of a happy tiger, the flames from its exhausts
shimmered in the violet tints of perfect mixture, and the indicating
dial pointed to the fact that Corrie had found some stretch of road
where he had passed the hundred mile an hour gait.

"She's in exact shape," approved Gerard, who had come out to meet them.
"Good work, Rupert."

Rupert turned a hard dark eye upon him.

"I ain't pining for this," he signified measuredly. "But there's
something coming to any decent car, and this one's suffered cruel."

Gerard nodded.

"I have been wondering where I could find a mechanician fit to race with
Corrie this season," he confided, nonchalantly serene.

The double bombshell dealt full effect.

"Well, rest yourself," urged Rupert tartly, leaving his seat. "I'll do
it. I know I'm a liar, I guess, but that won't hurt my work none."

"Race?" gasped Corrie. "Race? _I!_"

One rebel vanquished utterly, Gerard surveyed the other, preparing for
his first conflict with the new Corrie Rose he had himself created; the
Corrie Rose who in his twentieth year was a full-grown man.

"I have had you and the car entered for the Indianapolis meet, next
month," he announced; "after that we are going to Georgia, then down to
try the sea-beach along the Florida shore, where you can let out all
the speed the machine has got. Of course you will race. What else have
you been training