FOR THE USE OF MEMBERS ONLY 
 
 <Cljc pacific Coast 
 
 PACIFIC COAST HEADQUARTERS 
 
 1215 Post Street, 
 San Francisco, California. 
 
 LOST BOOKS MUST BE PAID FOR AT RETAIL PRICES 
 CASES AND BOOKS MUST BE RETURNED TOGETHER 
 
 Ang

 
 "BEFORE THE MURDERER'S SHAKING HAND COULD STEADY ME, 
 I LEAPED OFF THE ROAD." 
 
 Frontispiece (p. 125.)
 
 CHAMPION 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN COLIN DANE 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "The Hidden House," etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 W. E. WEBSTER 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 
 
 [All rights reserved] 
 
 Issued April, 1907 
 
 CHAMPION
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I I Am Born, and Start in Life . 9 
 
 II I Am Dressed 33 
 
 III I See Toinette 42 
 
 IV I See the World and Find Myself . . 55 
 
 V I See the Most Beautiful Girl of All . 66 
 
 VI I Come to Paris 84 
 
 VII I Start to Win the Cup 101 
 
 VIII I Do What I Can 114 
 
 IX I Find Out What Arnaud Meant . . 118 
 
 X I Suffer All Things 127 
 
 XI I Fall Into the Hands of the Enemy . 1 37 
 
 XII I See Once More the Man of the Cross-road 150 
 
 XIII I Overhear a Strange Conversation . 157 
 
 XIV I Suffer a Great Change . . . .176 
 
 XV I Become an Adventurer . . . 195 
 
 XVI I Am Dragged Into Strange Schemes . 213 
 
 XVII I Am Initiated Into Certain Mysteries . 234 
 
 XVIII I Lose My Temper 251 
 
 XIX I Fall Upon Evil Days .... 269 
 
 XX I Sing "The March of the Cameron Men" . 287 
 
 2135058
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " Before the Murderer's Shaking Hand Could Steady Me, I Leaped 
 
 Off the Road." Frontispiece 125 
 
 " Mademoiselle Patted His Hair." 46 
 
 " He Objected, and Argued, but She Cooed Him Down." . 82 
 
 " It Was Barr-Simons." . . . . . . . .150 
 
 " Fanning Was Lighting the Lamp." ..... 186 
 
 " He Accompanied His Client ... to the Edge of the Pavement." 223 
 " ' I Could Hardly Pick Up My Winnings.' " .... 240 
 
 " He Took the Opportunity of Avenging Old Iniquities." . 270
 
 CHAMPION 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 / Am Born, and Start in Life. 
 
 "Champion thou shalt be; and Champion I name 
 thee," solemnly pronounced the nicest voice in my 
 world. 
 
 I had heard only one or two others; but if a motor- 
 car is going to be worth its petrol and oil, there are a 
 great many things which it must be born knowing, 
 or it will never know them at all. Among the things 
 I already knew although I wasn't exactly born yet 
 was, that there could be no nicer voice in any world 
 than that of my creator and Master. I knew also that, 
 whatever should happen to me in the future, he would 
 be the only man to really matter in my existence. 
 Others might come and go, but if I were his Champion, 
 he was my Hero. 
 
 I didn't carburate these thoughts at that moment 
 precisely as I am carburating them now ; for, as I say, 
 I had not happened to be born, though I could feel it 
 coming on, and that the great event might occur at any 
 instant. 
 
 9
 
 Champion 
 
 "You're going to make the biggest sensation yet 
 in the automobile world, my beauty," said the dear 
 voice. It had talked a great deal to me, and often to 
 itself, in my acquaintance with it, so I had come to 
 understand every mood of my Master's, from its 
 sound. 
 
 "This is your great day, and my great day the day 
 of our lives so far," the voice went on. "But there's 
 going to be a bigger one by and by ; that's what we're 
 working up to; that's what you're born for." 
 
 "Am I born, then?" I wondered. "Is this all or is 
 there more to come?" 
 
 I hoped there was more, for I had been looking for- 
 ward for so long, that if this were all, I was disap- 
 pointed in the sensation. 
 
 I had been looking forward, semi-consciously, from 
 the dim days when my cylinders were being bored, and 
 pistons fitted. Then the first glimmering of self- 
 knowledge began to filter through the me-hess, which 
 was not yet me; but I could not have exploded into 
 words in that embryo time. 
 
 It was only to-day this glorious to-day that all 
 my parts had been "assembled." Loving hands fitted 
 my valves together, adjusting the cams with nicety, as 
 if I were a debutante being dressed for her presenta- 
 tion. (That is the sort of thing I have learned since 
 then; making comparisons, and so on; but there are 
 
 10
 
 Champion 
 
 plenty of other things that jump into a motor's bonnet 
 with the first turn of the crank, which sets his or her 
 heart beating and the joy of life quivering through 
 every molecule.) 
 
 I was securely fastened to the floor with bolts, as 
 I had been ever since I was put together; and this 
 was why I felt disappointed when my Master said it 
 was my Great Day. Nothing had actually happened; 
 nothing was definitely different. Was this all? 
 
 No, it was not all. Into a tank suspended above me 
 there fell the gurgle of liquid, which I began to taste 
 and smell as it mingled with my being. It was exqui- 
 site in flavor ^er I am sure than grape-juice could 
 be, or the purest spring water. Hardly had I assimi- 
 lated this beverage when into my crank-chamber 
 gushed a wave of beautifully refined oil, silky and ease- 
 giving, like balm. 
 
 This, indeed, was being born ! But there was more, 
 much more to follow. 
 
 I was highly excited at these preparations ; and when 
 my Master, paying me an occasional compliment as 
 he worked, fitted to the sparking-plugs in my cylinders 
 wires that came from an electric coil, I could hardly 
 control my impatience. I longed to be something, 
 somewhere I knew not what, or where. But the 
 longing was very strong. 
 
 Suddenly a radiant vision blazed into my waiting 
 
 ii
 
 Champion 
 
 engine. In a flash I realized that there was a glorious 
 world outside this workroom where I had been cre- 
 ated; that there were splendid things in it, mountains 
 and valleys laced with white roads, strange continents 
 to be conquered ; and that I had been made to conquer 
 them. 
 
 It was at this instant that the greatest wonder hap- 
 pened. 
 
 My Master had put a handle to my crank-axle ; and 
 now he gave that quick, abrupt turn I mentioned. 
 What rapture! Instinctively I knew what was re- 
 quired of me, though I made no conscious effort. I 
 was I. My carbureter drew in a breath of that in- 
 toxicating liquor, which is, for a motor, the elixir of 
 life, sprayed it into a finer powder, and mixed it with 
 exactly the proper proportion of air. My twelve 
 valves, working with no less certainty and precision 
 than the heavenly bodies themselves, sucked the ec- 
 static draft into the cylinders. At this marvel upon 
 marvel a spark of electricity glowed into a little flash 
 that leaped across from one point to another in a flame. 
 The flame united, in a spasm of joy, with the vapor in 
 my first cylinder. Then, in a burst of rapture, they 
 expanded, exploded! 
 
 I laughed in my wild happiness, and had not my si- 
 lencer prevented I should have shouted aloud. 
 
 "We'll show the world you and I together, my 
 
 12
 
 Champion 
 
 Champion," said the dear voice, and my heart rejoiced 
 at the words. I resolved, with something like a tear 
 rising in my carbureter, that I would always do my 
 best for the Master who had done everything for me ; 
 that I would be a true and faithful automobile; that I 
 would never back fire; that I would have no tempers 
 and no whims, anyhow, when he was driving me ; that 
 day and night I would do all in my combustion-cham- 
 bers to serve my Hero. 
 
 How stupid now seemed the old, glimmering half- 
 existence which was all I had known of life! I could 
 hear distinctly through my completed valves ; and, bet- 
 ter still, I could see see clearly for the first time, with 
 my sparking-plugs, of course. Later on my lamps 
 would help, just as spectacles help near-sighted eyes; 
 but an automobile does not actually need lamps to see 
 what is going on in front of his bonnet, even at night. 
 
 I should have been a monstrous piece of mechanism 
 if I hadn't delighted in my first flashing glimpse of my 
 Master, whom, until this illuminated minute, I had 
 known only through his voice and skilled touches. But 
 honestly, I had not expected to be as delighted as I 
 was. 
 
 Young myself, and modern with the modernness of 
 day after to-morrow, naturally I admired youth; and 
 it would have been a blow on the ignition if I had seen 
 him old or plain. But, with the first faint spark that 
 
 13
 
 Champion 
 
 kindled the joy of life in me, I saw him youthful, 
 handsome, and strong. 
 
 He wore workmen's overalls, and his sleeves were 
 rolled up over arms where the muscles rippled under 
 the smooth skin, like steel under satin, or, as I know 
 now, like tiny waves astir beneath the still, satin sur- 
 face of southern seas. He was tall, with broad shoul- 
 ders and a noble -throat which rose above the collar of 
 blue cotton, brown where the sleek dark head was set 
 upon it, white below. His face was brown, too, which 
 suited his features, and it was a good thing that he 
 wore no mustache or beard, for his mouth and chin, 
 firm and kind, were worth showing. There might be 
 times when they would look dogged, perhaps ; but there 
 was something about the cut of the lips which made me 
 think that he would never fail to see the funny side of 
 life. With his dark hair and brown skin eyebrows 
 and eyelashes of the blackest I suppose he ought to 
 have had brown eyes ; but, instead, they were the bluest 
 things I could imagine blue as the wild flowers in 
 fields through which often, since then, I have run. 
 
 Those eyes were looking at me with pride and ad- 
 miration, and I worshiped him. I would rather have 
 crawled at his feet on my lowest speed to make him 
 understand, once and for all, what I felt for him, than 
 I would win a race ; unless the race were for his honor 
 and glorification. 
 
 14
 
 Champion 
 
 I was dying to prove what I could and would do 
 for his sake, and I hoped that he was going to give me 
 an opportunity, beginning from that very moment. 
 But, whether or not he had any idea of letting me 
 show my paces, a thing happened just then which 
 would in any case have prevented him from putting it 
 into practise. 
 
 There came a quick tapping at the closed door of 
 the workshop. 
 
 My Master gave a start of surprise and frowned 
 with impatience because, for one thing, he probably 
 didn't want to be interrupted ; and for another, it was 
 a new knock, different from the only other knock 
 which had ever sounded on that door within my recol- 
 lection. 
 
 The usual knocking came in two clear, strong raps, 
 and was given by the one man who had helped my 
 Master in creating me. When he went out and left 
 my Hero alone he always knocked when he came 
 back; but when my Master returned after an absence, 
 he walked straight in, by which fact I might have de- 
 duced even if there had not been a hundred other 
 ways for the most embryo piece of mechanism to dis- 
 cover the truth that my Master was master of the 
 man, as well as of me. 
 
 He hesitated for a few seconds; then, going to the 
 door, opened it half-way and looked out. 
 
 15
 
 Champion 
 
 "Why, Sheila!" I heard him exclaim. "Dear little 
 girl, how did you find me?" 
 
 "You'd never guess, so I may as well tell you at 
 once," answered a pretty voice which, though light and 
 girlish, had tones in it like his. 
 
 With that he brought her into the workshop, and he 
 did not shut the door behind him. It was the first time 
 it had ever been left even half-open, and I caught a 
 glimpse of a big room outside, with several creatures, 
 evidently of the automobile family, standing about. 
 My Master had as he thought put me to sleep be- 
 fore going to the door; but once alive, always alive, 
 until broken up for old iron, with a thoroughbred 
 motor like myself. I was so interested in these poor 
 relations of mine that I hadn't a glance to spare for 
 my Master's new companion. 
 
 Two of the unfortunate machines were dismem- 
 bered and actually rusty, poor wretches. A third was 
 alive, and making the most horrid grunting noise, 
 which told me that its lubrication was as bad as its 
 manners ; a common thing it was, with only two cylin- 
 ders, while each of the broken-up creatures had only 
 one, if you will believe it. One had also a fractured 
 axle, and betrayed no shame in revealing an abomin- 
 able flaw in the metal. I thanked my sparks that I 
 had been kept apart from such society. Not one 
 among the lot was a machine I cared to know. 
 
 16
 
 Champion 
 
 "Oh, Hugh, how sweet it does seem to see you 
 again," the newcomer was saying excitedly. 
 
 I had never seen a girl before; but looking at her 
 made me hope that I might see a great many more, if 
 they were all half as pretty as she. 
 
 Her hair was black, like my Master's, and her eyes 
 of the same bright, turquoise blue, under black lashes ; 
 but instead of being tall and muscular she was a little 
 thing, with a waist for which I think my Master could 
 have made a belt with his hands. Her face was not 
 brown, but white, with a color on the cheeks as if 
 some one had struck her there with a rose, a blow 
 for each cheek, and the pink color had stained the 
 skin. She had red, red lips, and they were smiling 
 as she stood on tiptoe with her gloved hands on my 
 Master's shoulders. 
 
 "And for me to see you, Kittens," he answered her. 
 "But you haven't explained yet the mystery of how 
 you came to find me in this den." 
 
 "It isn't a mystery. I saw you. I've been in 
 town for a week, staying with Edith Barr-Simons, 
 and " 
 
 I was lying with my valves open now, drinkng in 
 every word they said ; and as I had no bonnet on, I 
 could watch each change of their expression. My 
 Master flushed up, and his dark eyebrows drew to- 
 gether as he broke in, echoing: "Barr-Simons!" 
 
 17
 
 Champion 
 
 "Of course you must hear of him often, as he's in 
 the motor-car world. He's nobody in point of birth, 
 and awfully nouveau riche; but it isn't like you to care 
 'for that, and yet " 
 
 My Master laughed a nice, amused laugh, though 
 uncomfortable, too. "Heaven forbid I should care for 
 that. But Barr-Simons is my well, never mind. How 
 could you know? And it's better that you shouldn't 
 know." 
 
 "If you mean something horrid, perhaps it is bet- 
 ter, while I'm in his house, eating and drinking his 
 things such frightfully good things, too! I suppose 
 it isn't that that you're angry about Edith marrying 
 him, for you wouldn't look at her in spite of papa 
 wanting it so much. And, anyway, poor girl, she took 
 him quite for his money." 
 
 My Master laughed again. "No doubt that's in her 
 favor. But her marriage is nothing to me. I could 
 never stand the girl, though you liked her." 
 
 "Well, do let's talk about you. Hugh, darling old 
 boy, never a day, never an hour, I believe, that I 
 haven't thought of you. You can't imagine how I 
 felt, when I saw you walk into this place yesterday. I 
 could have jumped out of the electric brougham." 
 
 "Mrs. Barr-Simons' electric brougham?" 
 
 "Yes, she'd lent it to me to do some shopping " 
 
 "She wasn't with you herself?" 
 
 18
 
 Champion 
 
 "No." 
 
 "The Saints be praised. But did you say anything 
 about seeing me?" 
 
 "Not a word. I never speak of you to Edith, for 
 well, I can't help fancying she rather liked you, and 
 has a feeling as if you'd slighted her, though she 
 doesn't visit it on me. And though, in your day, there 
 was no Mr. Barr-Simons in the field, she may have 
 talked to him about you, and made him jealous. 
 Otherwise he would hardly know of your existence." 
 
 "Oh, wouldn't he? He would probably be glad to 
 hear to-morrow that I'd ceased to have one." 
 
 "Hugh! What do you mean?" 
 
 "I'd rather not explain, girlie, especially while you're 
 in his house. Tell me things about yourself, and about 
 dear little Mater, and the Governor." 
 
 "They're both well. Mama's as sweet and gentle 
 as ever, and and as deadly afraid of upsetting papa. 
 And he oh, dearest, he's just the same about you, 
 just as hard and unforgiving. He was so proud of 
 you, you know. It was all mixed up with his pride of 
 family, and everything. He isn't conceited, of course ; 
 he's miles above that. But I suppose it is rather un- 
 usual for a peer to become a parson ; and people have 
 always told him how noble and wonderful he was. He 
 did so want you to follow in his footsteps, and he hates 
 not getting what he wants." 
 
 19
 
 Champion 
 
 "So do I. No doubt I've inherited it." 
 
 "Oh, if you only could have got what you wanted! 
 
 If you could have made a great, great success in your 
 
 chosen work the work you would choose in spite of 
 
 everything maybe, in the end, papa would gradually 
 
 have found himself forgiving you. But " 
 
 "Well, Kittens? Don't be afraid to finish." 
 "I'd rather die than hurt your feelings, Hugh, dear; 
 but it's awfully sad and disappointing, isn't it, that 
 you're just just nothing but a mechanic still? Not a 
 common mechanic, of course. Even those horrid blue 
 overalls look picturesque and romantic on you, be- 
 cause you're such a gentleman, and so handsome. Still, 
 it almost broke my heart to see you in them yesterday, 
 and when I got back to Edith's I cried. I was dying 
 to stop the brougham here, and follow you in, but 
 of course, I didn't dare. Edith's maid was with me. 
 She's most particular, and won't let me stir out of 
 the house alone so different from what she used to 
 be when you thought her fast and manny. Then, 
 there wasn't another free moment till to-day. I 
 thought half the night about plans to get at you I 
 took it for granted that this was the place where you 
 were working, and that I should find you here and 
 at last I hit on an idea. I made Edith drop me at Mrs. 
 Edwardes' my old governess, you know the second 
 
 one and she'll call for me there after a big bazaar 
 
 20
 
 Champion 
 
 which I said would tire me to death. I shall have to 
 be back at Eddie's in an hour, so you see we must 
 just talk seventeen to the dozen in the little time we 
 have together." 
 
 "Dear old Kittens !" said my Master in a nicer tone 
 than he had ever used to me, so nice that I was almost 
 jealous of the girl he called "Sheila," and "Kittens," 
 though she was so pretty, and so like him that I 
 couldn't help feeling soft toward her. But, perhaps, 
 it was partly that oil in my crank-chamber. 
 
 "So you came to me, though you thought my blue 
 overalls were a sign of failure! Good little girl. I 
 always knew you were a trump, and I'd have given 
 anything to write or hear from you. But you had to 
 promise the Governor, just as the Mater did." 
 
 "Yes. I was sure you understood. But, oh, Hugh, 
 aren't you a failure, then ?" 
 
 "Can you keep a secret?" 
 
 "Of course I can. Are you going to tell me one? 
 How splendid! Do shut the door." 
 
 "Not necessary. No one would guess that the 
 lovely young lady in white muslin is the sister of the 
 mechanic in blue overalls, dear ; and we can't be over- 
 heard. There's my secret." And he pointed to me. 
 "Such a dead secret that you and I are standing be- 
 tween it and the door which has never been open so 
 
 long since I hired the premises for purposes of my 
 
 21
 
 Champion 
 
 own. It's a secret that, I hope and believe, is going 
 to win me fame and fortune, enough of both to recon- 
 cile the Governor to everything I've done, perhaps 
 even to make him and all of you a little bit proud of 
 me. It's such a big secret that I live in constant fear 
 of having it found out and being robbed of my tri- 
 umph my triumph that I've worked so hard you 
 can't guess how hard to earn." 
 
 "How you're making my heart beat!" exclaimed the 
 girl. "Go on tell me everything." 
 
 "It will be difficult to make you understand. You 
 don't know anything about motor-cars, and this " 
 
 "But I do I know lots. I've learned things, for 
 your sake. We were always such chums, you and I, 
 and you were so good and patient with me, though I 
 must have seemed a silly little wretch to a boy six 
 years older than I. It broke my heart to have you 
 go away to know you were being turned out. It 
 spoiled home for me and having to promise, almost 
 swear, to papa not to write. You know how he makes 
 one do things ; and you said, too, it would be better to 
 obey him, that day when we told each other good-by." 
 
 "I was right. You couldn't have gone on living at 
 home if you'd disobeyed, and I'd nothing to give you 
 then that could make up. But it will be different soon. 
 I shall have things to offer." 
 
 "As if things could make any difference! But I 
 
 23
 
 Champion 
 
 want you to know what I did, when you left us to be. 
 as papa said, a 'common mechanic.' I bought books 
 about motor-cars and read them and talked to people. 
 And it's the one subject on which I can think of a 
 word to say to Gilbert Barr-Simons." 
 
 "Dear, the less you have to say about motor-cars 
 to him, in connection with my affairs, the better for 
 me." 
 
 "Why, Hugh, do you mean something special?" 
 
 "Yes, very special. I'll tell you one day, perhaps, 
 for I know I can trust my little sister to the death. 
 Otherwise I wouldn't be talking to her as I'm talking 
 now about my secret. You say you've learned things 
 concerning motors. Well, now's the time for you 
 to prove how much you know. You see those draw- 
 ings on the walls?" 
 
 As my Master asked his sister this question I felt 
 a rush of petrol to the carbureter. When he alluded 
 to the drawings on the wall he alluded to me. 
 
 I had known for some time that they were there, 
 for I had often heard Hugh and the man who helped 
 him speak of these designs, and no sooner had I seen 
 my Master to-day, than I gazed long and earnestly 
 at them. They were diagrams, illustrating all my dif- 
 ferent parts, and, though at first I was conscious of 
 shame at seeing all my most sacred organs exposed 
 in such a conspicuous manner, I had already grown
 
 Champion 
 
 accustomed to the idea, and was immensely interested 
 in the meaning of my own inner workings and outer 
 features. It is a good thing for an automobile, as well 
 as a person, to know itself exactly as it really is; and 
 my examination of the beautifully accurate drawings 
 was not calculated to lower my self-esteem. I could 
 see by them that everything about me was as perfect 
 as genius and skilled workmanship could make it. 
 Also, I believed, judging from those poor common 
 things I had caught a glimpse of in the next room, that 
 there was something extraordinarily new and remark- 
 able in my organization. No wonder my Master and 
 his employee hid me here, as if I were the Grand 
 Lama of Tibet; while other less aristocratic motors 
 stood outside, jumbled up with sordid lathes, screw- 
 cutting and planing-machines. 
 
 Now Hugh was going to explain me to his sister, 
 telling her all the things I knew about myself and him, 
 probably a great many that I didn't, but would like to. 
 I listened with all my valves. 
 
 "There on the walls," said he, "are the plans that 
 have kept me busy, heart and soul and mind, for the 
 last twelve months. Here before you is the plans' 
 completion"; and he pointed to me. 
 
 "What a queer-looking machine, dearest. Is it go- 
 ing to be a motor-car?" 
 
 "I should rather think it was going to be a motor- 
 
 24
 
 Champion 
 
 car. More than a year of my past life, all my future, 
 and every penny I have in the world are in that piece 
 of mechanism, bless it. 'Champion' I've named it, for 
 luck; and if Champion doesn't turn out a champion 
 after all, why, I'm a ruined as well as a disappointed 
 man." 
 
 When I heard that I gulped in too much air by mis- 
 take into my carbureter, which made such an odd 
 gurgling noise that Miss Sheila gave a little jump, and 
 glanced round as if she expected to see a ghost. Even 
 Hugh looked puzzled, as if wondering what on earth 
 was the matter with me; but after the first shock of 
 excitement I didn't betray my private feelings any 
 further. I satisfied myself by tightening up my piston- 
 rings, at a place where I knew there was a little escape 
 of gas. It seemed the one way in which I could man- 
 age at the moment to show Hugh that I would do all, 
 and more than all, that he expected of me; but I'm 
 afraid he didn't notice. 
 
 His whole fortune, his whole future, depending c.i 
 me ! My cylinders chilled at the thought of such a re- 
 sponsibility. But I knew that I had the power as 
 well as the will to justify his expectations. 
 
 "Uncle Malcolm's money," said Sheila. 
 
 "Yes," my Master repeated, "Uncle Malcolm's 
 money. Good old Uncle Malcolm; if it hadn't been 
 for him, I suppose I should have had to cave in to 
 
 25
 
 Champion 
 
 the Governor. But no, I couldn't. Of all things on 
 earth, the last one I'm fitted to be is a parson, and you 
 know that, Kittens." 
 
 "You'd have made a dangerously handsome curate," 
 said she, giggling, "and there'd have been dreadful 
 havoc among the girls." 
 
 "Well, thank Heaven and Uncle Malcolm, who's 
 there now that I did have the money to see me 
 through, on the way I wanted to go the only way 
 for me. It's made me a skilled mechanician, a skilled 
 engineer, I may say without conceit. I don't think 
 there's much to know about motors that I haven't 
 learned in the most practical schools, in these last years 
 since I left home; all the knowledge I was continually 
 trying to get as a boy I've got now at my fingers' 
 ends." 
 
 "I remember how you invented the dearest little 
 motor-car for my doll, before motors were heard of 
 in London," laughed Sheila. 
 
 "Well, Champion's the development of that the 
 fine flower of that seed. She no, he for Cham- 
 pion's nothing if he's not masculine is something ab- 
 solutely new in automobiles. He is the perfect achieve- 
 ment of the idea over which a dozen men have bun- 
 gled ; at least, I have every reason to hope and believe 
 so, and the test will come next month, with the Vander- 
 
 yoorst cup-race. It's a race for inventors." 
 
 26
 
 Champion 
 
 "I know. I've heard Gilbert Barr-Simons talking 
 about it. He expects to win with a car he's been hav- 
 , ing made in his motor- works." 
 
 "He won't, because I'm going to win it with a car 
 I've been making in my motor-works." 
 
 "Yours? Why, have you " 
 
 "Behold them, my child. I didn't want to sell my 
 invention, which, unless I'm much mistaken, is the 
 very thing Barr-Simons is trying to work out. If I 
 did, others would reap the reward, and I should be 
 forgotten; so, when my idea had taken clear form 
 in my brain, I put every penny I had into the experi- 
 ment, determining to make a specimen car, with as 
 little help as possible, and run it in this race. If the 
 cup had been offered to fit my plans it couldn't have 
 suited them better, for any man who has invented a 
 novelty is invited to compete without explaining the 
 mechanism until the race is over quite a new thing in 
 the way of motor-racing, and very sporting of Van- 
 clervoorst." 
 
 "Gilbert Barr-Simons knows him," said Sheila. 
 
 "I don't, but I hope to. I'm not much in the way 
 of knowing American or other millionaires at present; 
 but I'm biding my time, and I don't think I shall have 
 to wait long before Vandervoorst and all the big fel- 
 lows who're mad about motoring will take as much in- 
 terest in me as I do in them. I've been working here 
 
 27
 
 Champion 
 
 in secret, you know, Kittens, with only one man to 
 help me. I wouldn't have had him if I could have 
 done without any one ; but there were things I couldn't 
 manage single-handed. I took this workshop, which 
 has been costing me a pot of money, a lot more than 
 you'd think possible to look at it, and I and my man, 
 Arnaud a clever chap I brought over from the Fer- 
 nand-Panton works in France, where I learned more 
 than anywhere else have had access to the casting- 
 shops and forges, and all that. Not another soul ex- 
 cept Arnaud and I have touched any important part 
 of my motor in the making; yet there she stands, per- 
 fection a revolutionizes " 
 
 "You called her 'him' a little while ago." 
 
 (I gurgled at this; I could not help it, but nobody 
 heard me. The handsome brother and sister were 
 absorbed in each other, though the conversation was 
 of me.) 
 
 "Oh, well, one's used to saying 'she,' when one 
 speaks of a car. But Champion is altogether excep- 
 tional. He combines the best qualities of the male and 
 female, so it doesn't much matter which you call him. 
 As a masculine motor and the knightly gentleman he 
 is, Champion will never fail me through any hysterical 
 whimsies, I know." 
 
 ("I must live up to that," I thought.) 
 
 "Why have you been so secretive?" asked Sheila. 
 
 28
 
 Champion 
 
 "Because, my child, others are on the road toward 
 making the discoveries I've made, though no one else 
 has yet reached the end. Barr-Simons is the nearest 
 to it, I think, but he's come to a standstill now, for 
 the want of one little inspiration which my guardian 
 angel popped into my head a year ago. Motor people 
 aren't exactly saints; and if anybody got on to my idea 
 before I was ready to patent it " 
 
 ''But why don't you patent it?" 
 
 "Because Barr-Simons has been very fond of the 
 Patent Office lately." 
 
 "Oh, Hugh, you don't mean " 
 
 "I'm afraid I do. He wouldn't stop at anything. 
 On the day of the race, when it's too late for him or 
 any one else to cheat me out of the ten thousand 
 pounds I hope Champion's going to win, I shall patent 
 my invention. It's a risk to delay, of course; but I 
 have my own reasons for thinking it's a worse risk 
 the other way." 
 
 "Is Gilbert Barr-Simons a man like that? Edith's 
 husband !" 
 
 "Gilbert Barr-Simons is a man exactly like that; 
 and perhaps all the more because he is Edith's husband. 
 You see, he knows that the Pater was keen on her 
 marrying me, in the old days when she used to visit us. 
 He'd got a silly, jealous notion, I fancy, that she liked 
 
 29
 
 Champion 
 
 "So she did." 
 
 t 
 "Pooh, I don't believe it. Anyhow, a schoolgirl 
 
 fancy for a boy of her own age. But she is of our sort, 
 our class; and he well, he's Barr-Simons." 
 
 "D,o you think he's half Spanish ? He's very dark." 
 
 "In some of his dealings as well as complexion. 
 Poor Edith! But he's got a few millions, and I dare 
 say he's good to her." 
 
 "He gives her the loveliest pearls! But he's often 
 cross." 
 
 "I wish you were out of his house, Kittens." 
 
 "So do I, after what you've told me now I know 
 he's your enemy." 
 
 "If that were all! There are other things. But I 
 can rely on you not to mention our meeting? If you 
 did, he'd find some way of getting out of you what I'm 
 doing, and what you've seen." 
 
 "Can you trust your Frenchman?" 
 
 "I believe I can. I have to. If he were a traitor 
 but I won't even think of it. That way madness 
 lies. And so far as I can, I have identified his interests 
 with mine." 
 
 My Master and his sister were speaking together in 
 very low tones, so low that nobody outside could have 
 distinguished a word of their conversation, not even a 
 listener at the door which Hugh had for the first time 
 left ajar. The two were standing close to me, screen- 
 
 30
 
 Champion' 
 
 ing my form from view, if any one had tried to peep 
 in. No one had, but when they had reached this point 
 in their talk my valves told me that Jean Arnaud was 
 crossing the big outer room, coming back to his master 
 and to me, after finishing lunch. I heard his step; 
 also I heard him whistle a little French air which got 
 on my electric wires in the most irritating way, though 
 it was a favorite of his. How different from my dear 
 Master's whistling and singing it was! All through 
 my long probation one of my highest pleasures had 
 been to listen dreamily when Hugh whistled or 
 hummed his favorites; and I knew that till the day 
 of my break-up I could never forget "The March of 
 the Cameron Men," and "Charlie, will ye no come 
 back again?" 
 
 Those were the airs I liked best, the ones which 
 thrilled me most, especially the "Cameron Men," for 
 I knew that my Master was a Cameron. Jean Arnaud, 
 besides calling him "Monsieur," sometimes addressed 
 him as "Monsieur Cameron." 
 
 I have not said anything about Jean Arnaud until 
 now, for two reasons. One is that he was away at his 
 lunch when I was actually born into the full vigor of 
 life; therefore, at the beginning of my real career, it 
 was as it ought rightfully to have been my Master 
 and Hero who made upon me the first tremendous im- 
 pression. The second reason is that what I did dimly 
 
 31
 
 Champion 
 
 know of Jean Arnaud, in my transition stage, I did not 
 particularly like. 
 
 I always thought he had a hard, vivisecting way 
 with him, as he screwed strange little plugs with plati- 
 num points into the heads of my cylinders, and did 
 other things to me without any of that caressing ten- 
 derness Hugh showed in every touch. It was easy for 
 even a half-alive automobile, in progress of making, to 
 see that my Master's one absorbing interest was his 
 creation; but Arnaud, though there was no denying 
 his quickness and cleverness, gave the impression of 
 being absent-minded sometimes. If I had known as 
 much about the world as I know now, I should have 
 said to myself, in Jean's own language : "Cherchez la 
 femme"; while as for my dear Hugh Cameron, in 
 those days there wasn't a girl in the universe whose 
 society he would have preferred to mine. 
 
 Now, as Jean Arnaud came toward the half-open 
 door, he was whistling that little French chanson, 
 pretty enough, but meant for a woman's voice. I 
 didn't think much about it then, for I was deadly tired 
 of it, and it stopped suddenly just outside the door. 
 But afterward I had good cause to be haunted by that 
 air. It was called: "La Belle Toinette."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 / Am Dressed. 
 
 Arnaud's coming put an end to any confidences be- 
 tween my Master and Miss Sheila, or if there were any 
 more they must have been exchanged when Hugh saw 
 his sister to the outer door, and bade her good-by. 
 When the girl was gone, I realized that the presence of 
 a pretty creature of that kind brightened up a place 
 wonderfully, and I felt that I might be capable of 
 growing deeply attached to one of them. 
 
 Arnaud was interested and curious, I could tell, by 
 the way he looked over his shoulder after my Master 
 and Sheila, as they turned to go away. I was sure he 
 would have liked to ask questions about the young 
 lady, but of course he could not very well, for the 
 Master and he were not on that sort of terms. Even 
 if I had been able to speak, I should have kept mum, 
 for my Master's business was his business and no- 
 body else's, unless it was a little bit mine. But though 
 I wasn't very fond of Arnaud, I would never have be- 
 lieved him capable of taking advantage of that visit of 
 Miss Sheila's, as he did. 
 
 The rest of the day, I was encouraged to keep quiet, 
 but next morning, earlier than the ordinary time for 
 
 33
 
 Champion 
 
 their arrival, I heard Hugh's voice, and Arnaud's, at 
 the door. There was an unusual stir and excitement, 
 and evidently some heavy objects were being brought 
 in. When the door was shut and locked again, Hugh 
 came and took off the wrapping with which he was 
 accustomed to cover me up when I was left alone. 
 
 "Now we'll see how she likes her new clothes," said 
 he to Jean. 
 
 It was a little confusing to be called "he" sometimes, 
 and then "she." But I felt that I understood what 
 my Master meant. No doubt he had made me with a 
 dual nature, and at certain moments my masculine at- 
 tributes were uppermost, at others my feminine. And 
 I must confess that no little seven-horse power, girly- 
 girly car could have pricked up her valves at the sound 
 of the word "clothes" much more eagerly than I did. 
 I hoped that I was going to be well and becomingly 
 dressed. At present, I knew, there must be something 
 a little bizarre about me, or Sheila would not have 
 been surprised to hear that I was really an automo- 
 bile. 
 
 "Easy now," said my Master; and then he and Ar- 
 naud carefully lifted me from the floor, to which, until 
 this moment, I had been attached. As he took me up, 
 Hugh whistled "The March of the Cameron Men," 
 and to my joy, it was in tune with that stirring music 
 which I loved, that I was fitted into a deliciously com- 
 
 34
 
 Champion 
 
 fortable, oblong frame of steel, strong yet light. What 
 stays must be to a woman, that frame instantly became 
 for me, and I knew that I should never be at my best 
 without it. Fastened to this frame or chassis, into 
 which I slipped, was a neat gray body, as plain yet ele- 
 gant as the tailor-made dress Sheila had worn yester- 
 day. It had two small seats side by side, and was quite 
 different from the bodies of the poor, common things 
 lurking in the next room. Probably, I explained to 
 myself, this was because I was going to be a racer, 
 while they were every-day jog-trot creatures, rubbing 
 along with a few horse-power. 
 
 While I was being dressed, I caught sight of four 
 beautiful wheels, which I knew must be for me, and 
 I was impatient to try them on; but I had plenty of 
 time to conquer that impatience before the chance 
 came. 
 
 Time, as time, had hardly existed for me until yes- 
 terday, when I was formally born, for all had been so 
 dim and dreamy that yesterdays merged into to-days 
 and to-days into to-morrows without my feeling the 
 difference. But now, since I had once been set going, 
 I was able to measure seconds by my own piston- 
 strokes; and I knew too well that days passed before 
 I was fully clad, with all my accessories attached. The 
 uses of some of these I found myself understanding 
 and appreciating by instinct, and the sensation of ease 
 
 35
 
 Champion 
 
 they gave my wheels especially but several things 
 were puzzling, and most of all a curious object which 
 Hugh and his assistant apparently thought more im- 
 portant than anything else. It was a very queer thing, 
 and such experience as a glimpse or two of those other 
 ca'rs had given, afforded me no clue to its uses. But 
 the wheels pleased me so much that I did not fret 
 about this contrivance, hoping to learn eventually what 
 I was to do with it. 
 
 My Master had made my wheels, not contented with 
 mere ready-made things such as can be fitted on to any 
 car; and I learned from his conversaton with Jean 
 that they were the first of their kind an experiment of 
 which I was to be trusted to make the test. They had 
 floating rims, and springs to take up all vibration from 
 the road that wonderful, unknown road which I was 
 panting to try; and Hugh told Jean that he was cer- 
 tain they would let me feel no shocks, no matter how 
 rough the going might be. Though the tires were 
 of iron, he would warrant I should "ride as easily as 
 the Lord Mayor in his coach." 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur," answered Arnaud, always out- 
 wardly sympathetic, "if our motor could feel, she 
 would be intoxicated by the resilience of her own 
 wheels." 
 
 "She can feel," answered Hugh, with a good laugh 
 of pride in me; and I loved him more than ever for 
 
 36
 
 Champion 
 
 understanding. I could not have borne to be no more 
 to him than a stick or a stone. 
 
 One of Hugh's wisest arrangements for my speed 
 and comfort, as I could tell from the moment we came 
 together, was the air-cooling of my cylinders. With- 
 out this contrivance the heat of my endeavors would 
 have developed into such a fever that I should have 
 flown into a delirious frenzy, burnt up all my oil, and 
 have made my cylinder-walls red-hot. But Hugh's 
 thoughtfulness had provided each one of my six cylin- 
 ders with a light aluminum case, closed at the top 
 and open below. A powerful fan, which I learned in 
 a flash to drive myself, pumped a constant stream of 
 delicious cool air all round my combustion-chambers 
 and the walls of my cylinders, so that I could work 
 my hardest, putting forth all my tremendous energy, 
 without turning a hair. 
 
 These details and others I could have explained to 
 the stupidest automobile that grunted and guzzled in 
 the adjoining room; but fitted to my chassis was a 
 thing that utterly bewildered me. All my cleverness 
 and imagination I focused upon it in vain, looking 
 from it to the diagram where it was pictured from 
 the diagram back to the thing itself. It was a kind of 
 winged screw, but what had I to do with a screw, or 
 what had a screw to do with me? Were not my 
 hundred and twenty horses those fierce steeds of fire 
 
 37
 
 Champion 
 
 I carried in my breast strong enough and brave 
 enough to help me through any ordeal, without the 
 aid of an irrelevant thing like that? I did not ap- 
 prove of the mysterious screw, which worried me like 
 a hidden pin ; but I loved my horses, my hundred and 
 twenty horses, so much more alert and reliable than 
 the cumbersome quadrupeds I could hear trotting heav- 
 ily past the window of the workshop. But then, how 
 could one expect a creature which exists- by chewing 
 hay to equal in brilliant achievements a being that in- 
 hales fiery petrol as the very breath of life? 
 
 The day I heard Hugh say I was finished and ready 
 for my first trial, I was thinking hard about that 
 strange screw when my master had gone out to dine. 
 
 Since I had been got into my body and had my 
 wheels on I was never left alone, night or day. When 
 Hugh went out, Arnaud stayed, when Arnaud was 
 off duty, Hugh was by my side. Even at night one 
 of the two slept in the workshop, and somehow I felt 
 in my chassis that these extra precautions had a con- 
 nection with that everlasting screw. Now that I had 
 had time to get used to all my other parts, and the 
 novelty was wearing off, I had nothing particular to 
 think of except my coming trials and the screw. 
 What was it for? Why did they speak of it below 
 their breath ? Why did they have the air of consider- 
 ing it more than anything else? Though it was part 
 
 38
 
 Champion 
 
 of myself, I was growing almost jealous of the thing. 
 I suppose I felt rather as a girl might feel if she 
 wanted her lover to admire her eyes, or her hair, and 
 he forgot them in staring at one of her finger-nails, 
 which he persisted in considering unique. 
 
 Hugh had gone to his dinner, as I said, and was 
 going to have a sleep after a long day of hard work. 
 Then, at ten o'clock, he intended to come back and 
 take me out for my "first spin." He would be fresh 
 after a little rest, he told Arnaud, and "fit to drive 
 the Champion as a champion should be driven." Mean- 
 while Jean, who had been off during the day from 
 twelve to four, was to keep guard over me I could 
 guess why, since I'd heard that conversation between 
 Hugh and Sheila eat his dinner in my society, and 
 not leave me until his master returned. 
 
 Whenever Jean was off duty, and Hugh and I alone 
 together, he always talked to me, and said things so 
 good to hear that they nearly gave me a rush of petrol 
 to the cylinders. But Arnaud never had a word for 
 me, unless, perhaps, it was a cross one, if inadvert- 
 ently I gave him trouble. I believe that he sincerely 
 admired and was proud of me, for he was the kind 
 of man to value anything he worked upon himself; 
 and, of course, though I was due to my Master's 
 genius, I owed something a good deal, according to 
 his idea to Jean Arnaud, as well. 
 
 39
 
 Champion 
 
 To-night, as the moments dragged on, he grew mori 
 and more restless. I think there must have been some- 
 thing electrical in the air, and every wire in me re- 
 sponded to it; but perhaps it was partly the thought of 
 going out into the world for the first time, of showing 
 Hugh what I could do for him, that affected me. In 
 any case, I was in no mood to be jarred upon by Ar- 
 naud's fretful exclamations, which mostly shaped 
 themselves into grumblings against me, or even against 
 our Master. 
 
 "Why couldn't he have chosen another night ?" Jean 
 growled to himself, as he ate something out of a red 
 napkin which contained his dinner. "To-morrow 
 night any night but this one night when she had 
 asked me to be with her? Supper with her! and to 
 have missed it a chance I would give a year's pay 
 for. Nothing would suit him but it must be to-night. 
 Serve him right for his selfishness if the car goes 
 wrong!" 
 
 At this, no air-cooling contrivance on earth could 
 have kept my cylinders from getting hot if my engine 
 had been working. Why, my very oil would have 
 boiled to hear him talking like that about Hugh, our 
 Master, his benefactor. As it was, I grew colder 
 with rage, and more rigid. 
 
 As he ate, Arnaud was walking about the workshop 
 in his nervous way, eating sandwiches, and even dar- 
 
 40
 
 Champion 
 
 ing to drop crumbs on my body. Suddenly he began 
 to gird at me. "You !" he exclaimed furiously. "Why 
 should I be sacrificed for you? It is a madness that 
 monsieur will have you watched and chaperoned as if 
 you were a beautiful young lady every man was want- 
 ing to kidnap. All the world is not thinking of you. 
 Nobody would break in and steal your secrets if I were 
 to go away for an hour the hour that he spends in 
 comfortable sleep. Yet for you I must give up a joy 
 greater than any I have ever known a joy that will 
 never come to me again, because I have appeared to 
 slight it. An invitation from the incomparable 'Toi- 
 nette and I have been forced to refuse it for you." 
 
 With that he gave me a kick on one of my driving- 
 wheels, as an angry groom might kick a horse on the 
 ankle, and I wished that I were a horse that I could 
 have paid him back with a bite. I did manage to 
 spill a drop of lubricating-oil onto him, but that was 
 nothing to what I should have liked to do. 
 
 As if this exhibition of temper had relieved his feel- 
 ings, or as if the name of 'Toinette had put the thought 
 of his tiresome chanson into his head, he began to sing, 
 "La belle 'Toinette, ma belle 'Toinette!" and while he 
 was humming and brushing crumbs off his jacket, 
 there came a light, but distinctly audible, tapping at 
 the window.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 / See 'Toinette. 
 
 At the same moment, a clock which stood on a shelf 
 by the door began to strike, as if the unexpected sound 
 had startled it. It struck eight; and my Master was 
 not due to come back for two hours yet. Besides, he 
 never rapped at the window. Nobody had ever rapped 
 at the window since I had been I. Who could be 
 there, wanting to come in at this hour? 
 
 No light was shining out, to tell passers-by that the 
 room was occupied at a time when other workshops 
 were shut up and deserted. I felt a curious, excited 
 vibration running through my whole electrical system, 
 and I could see that Arnaud was surprised, too. Evi- 
 dently the knocking was as unexpected to him as to 
 me; and somehow I was glad of that. 
 
 He stopped humming and stared at the window, 
 which was now nothing but a dim, bluish square cut 
 out of the deep brown dusk of the room; for we never 
 used lights at night, except that of an electric lantern 
 when really necessary. My Master did not wish to 
 attract attention to the fact that any one remained in 
 the workshop so long after hours; and as it was still 
 August, the twilight lingered late. 
 
 43
 
 Champion 
 
 For a few seconds Arnaud did not move, even after 
 the tapping came again, in a different way. I won- 
 dered if some little vagabond who had wandered into 
 the narrow side street was amusing himself by playing 
 a tune on our window-panes; but presently I discov- 
 ered that the air the unseen fingers were rapping out 
 was a familiar one: "La belle Toinette." And then 
 a voice began to sing very softly, very sweetly, the 
 French words I had so often heard Arnaud humming. 
 
 He seemed to fling himself across the room in one 
 great stride, and was pushing up the window, which 
 had been open only a little way at the top, to let in 
 air. "Mademoiselle 'Toinette!" he whispered like a 
 man in a dream. 
 
 Somebody laughed, a gay, coquetting laugh. "You 
 would not come to me; voila, I have come to you!" 
 said the voice that had sung the verse of "La Belle 
 Toinette." 
 
 "It is too good to be true," said Arnaud. 
 
 "It is true at least that you do not deserve such a 
 good thing," laughed the voice; and try as I might, I 
 could not catch even a sidewise peep at the speaker. 
 "You did not think I knew where you spent these long 
 days of work you told me of no? But you have said 
 the name of the street." 
 
 "I don't remember mentioning it," stammered Ar- 
 naud, 
 
 43
 
 Champion 
 
 "What you forget what you say to me? That is 
 not a compliment !" 
 
 "I never forget what you say to me," he hurriedly 
 answered, which seemed to please Mademoiselle 'Toi- 
 nette. 
 
 "That is better," she exclaimed. "And now, will 
 you not open your door and come round to let me in ?" 
 
 "Let you in ?" Arnaud stammered again. "I much 
 as I should love to do that, I may not. I am under a 
 solemn promise " 
 
 "Pooh for your solemn promise! What is that to 
 me? If you do not at once invite me in to make a call 
 upon you, I shall know that all your words of love are 
 worth nothing. In one all little half -hour, I shall have 
 to go, because it will then be time for my turn at the 
 Tivoli. My brougham is waiting for me just round 
 the corner. I have told the coachman I shall not come 
 for twenty-five minutes. Will you that after all I go 
 back to him now instead?" 
 
 "No no. I beg that you will stay and let me talk 
 to you here. I have a thousand things to say," im- 
 plored Arnaud, so desperately that I began to feel a 
 little sorry for him. "I have to tell you what I have 
 already partly told in my letter my answer to your 
 dear note that not to come and wait for you and take 
 you to supper to-night, as you would have permitted, 
 
 was sad as death to me " 
 
 44
 
 Champion 
 
 "All that I will hear when you have let me in. It 
 is not comme il faut that I should be kept standing in 
 a dark alley, below your window, like a young Span- 
 ish lover who talks to a sweetheart. I have believed 
 in your regret, or I should not be here; but in a mo- 
 ment more I shall cease to believe; and then I will 
 never speak to you again. It is for you to choose." 
 
 "Then I choose, and I break my promise, for you!" 
 cried Arnaud. "After all, it is not as if Monsieur 
 Cameron, my employer, never broke the rule he has 
 made for us both. A fortnight ago he brought in a 
 young lady. I found her here in the workshop when 
 I came back from my dejeuner. Also, the door was 
 partly open, and the motor uncovered. It was as if he 
 had forgotten himself. Now, he has no longer a right 
 to blame me, if I, too, am a little weak where a beauti- 
 ful woman is concerned. Mademoiselle, it will save 
 time, and be a great happiness to me, if you permit 
 that I lift you in at the window." 
 
 She laughed, and said, with a mock English accent : 
 "All right, I permit." And in another moment she was 
 in the room in front of my bonnet. Also, she was in 
 Arnaud's arms, and he was kissing her. He must have 
 thought that I was blind and deaf. 
 
 I could not see the visitor very distinctly at first, 
 but she insisted that it was too triste in the dusk, and 
 that "Monsieur Jean must light something." 
 
 45
 
 Champion 
 
 He was too intoxicated with joy now to object to 
 any wish of hers, it seemed, and without a word he 
 turned on the light which belonged to my Master, a 
 big electric lantern. It ate up the darkness, and in a 
 pale, glimmering circle, like a picture framed in black, 
 I saw Mademoiselle 'Toinette standing. 
 
 She was a bewitching creature. Arnaud had some 
 excuse for his madness, perhaps. 
 
 Her head was bare, and a long, orange-colored 
 cloak, tied loosely with ribbons at the throat, was 
 thrown back, and hung in straight folds behind her 
 lithe French figure, in its short, green-and-silver 
 sequin-covered dress. There was a wreath of glit- 
 tering green and silver leaves on her elaborately waved, 
 copper-bright hair ; a diamond pendant rising and fall- 
 ing on her white neck; a snake of diamonds with 
 emerald eyes clasping her tiny waist; her green silk 
 stockings were embroidered over the instep with little 
 brilliants; and her silver slippers had great flashing 
 buckles. With all this sparkle and dazzle, the fire of 
 her big black eyes that caught the light, and the scarlet 
 of her lips that parted over little milk-white teeth, Ar- 
 naud's visitor was a bewildering vision. I was not sur- 
 prised to see him fling himself on his knees and kiss 
 the hem of the shimmering green dress. 
 
 "To think that you should have come to me!" he 
 faltered; and Mademoiselle patted his hair .with a 
 
 46
 
 MADEMOISELLE PATTED HIS HAIR." 
 
 (/. 46.)
 
 Champion 
 
 white hand flashing with rings. She was wonderful, 
 but, somehow, she did not seem fresh and sweet, or 
 real, like Sheila. She looked older and harder, and 
 you would not have cared to have her near if your 
 steering-gear had gone wrong, or you had smashed an 
 axle, or anything that made you feel sick and sad all 
 over. Arnaud couldn't see her face as she patted his 
 head, but I could, and it had an expression as if she 
 were making fun of him in her heart, instead of loving 
 him, as he was conceited enough to believe. 
 
 "I have come," she said softly, "because I wanted 
 to see you, and because I wanted to see this wonderful 
 work of yours, which makes me jealous. Oh, yes, 
 I am jealous. You think more of your work than you 
 do of me. You would sacrifice me for it." 
 
 "Never!" cried Arnaud, still on his knees, adoring. 
 "I like the work, because I can do it well. One al- 
 ways likes what one does well. And I am faithful to 
 it because of what it can by and by do for me. When 
 I and Monsieur Cameron win the race I told you of, I 
 shall L~ rich. I can give you presents, then, worth 
 having; not the paltry things which, until now, have 
 been all I could afford to offer." 
 
 "I do not love you for the presents you have sent," 
 said 'Toinette, with a ring of truth in her voice. Then 
 why did she love him ? I was sure it was not for him- 
 self. 
 
 47
 
 Champion 
 
 "Sweet, soft angel," murmured Arnaud, snatching 
 both her hands. If I had been working I should cer- 
 tainly have snorted. She was about as sweet and soft, 
 and as much like an angel, as I was. 
 
 "I have loved the presents because you gave them," 
 she went on. "This dear emerald ring my favorite 
 stone. See, I am wearing it to-night. This bracelet 
 with the drop pearl. It was the second thing you sent 
 me. I have still the note that came with it written 
 before we knew each other before you dreamed of 
 knowing me, I believe you were so respectful. 'From 
 a compatriot and a humble admirer of the fairest trans- 
 planted flower of France.' Those were your very 
 words. Do I not remember well?" 
 
 "You make me die of happiness," mumbled Arnaud. 
 
 "Oh, you must not die. You must live to win your 
 great race, about which you have roused me to excite- 
 ment. And this big, gray thing, with the long, strange 
 body is this the marvel, the great invention you and 
 your Monsieur Cameron have made together?" 
 
 He and Monsieur Cameron together, indeed! I 
 could have burst a cylinder. As if Arnaud had had 
 anything to do with me, except to work under our 
 Master's instructions! 
 
 "Yes, this is our marvel," he replied, unctuously 
 accepting the credit. He jumped up, now, and would 
 have put his arm round that tiny waist of mademoi- 
 
 48
 
 Champion 
 
 selle's, but she pushed him away gently with a coquet- 
 tish little laugh. 
 
 "Not now," she said. "I wish to be shown the won- 
 derful thing which is to bring you fortune. Perhaps, 
 when you are rich, I shall say 'Yes' to you, is it not?" 
 
 "You would you would consent?" he stammered. 
 "Let us talk of the future, then." 
 
 "No. Of your automobile that is to make the future 
 our future." 
 
 Arnaud looked pale and uncomfortable. Evidently 
 he did not like the turn the conversation was taking; 
 he wished to defend himself and me from her wilful 
 curiosity, but I knew that he would yield. I knew that 
 she would be too strong for him and she was. After 
 a minute or two of clumsy fencing, he lost his head 
 completely. I believe it was a kiss which finished him, 
 but whatever it was, it made him abject. He forgot 
 all his obligations he was hers, body and soul; the 
 mean little soul of him! 
 
 He snatched off my bonnet, and brazenly exposed 
 my inner workings to the lady. But his fingers were 
 cold and trembling as he grasped the starting-handle. 
 Nervously he let it drop, without turning. 
 
 "After the work she did this morning, she ought to 
 start on the switch," he said. "The compression's per- 
 fect, and there's sure to be enough in one cylinder or 
 the other." 
 
 49
 
 Champion 
 
 With this, he turned on the switch, Mademoiselle 
 eying me in such a queer, eager way that it sud- 
 denly struck me she knew a good deal more about au- 
 tomobile-kind than she was pretending to know. A 
 queer idea began to mix with my electricity; and if I 
 could, I would have protected my master's interests by 
 refusing to answer. But I was too well made for that ; 
 and the best I could do was to hastily suck into my 
 carbureter a few of the hardest crumbs which Ar- 
 naud had carelessly dropped onto me a little while 
 ago. I managed to sniff them into such a position 
 that they clogged the needle-valve, which was exactly 
 what I wanted, as it gave me a chance of just explo- 
 ding once or twice and then coming to a stop for lack 
 of petrol. Naturally I made matters as bad as I could 
 by drawing in unnecessary air and gurgling loudly. 
 
 "Oh, but something is wrong," cried Mademoiselle 
 innocently. "It will not go." 
 
 "It will go beautifully," said Arnaud, anxious to 
 justify his reputation as an inventor of a marvel, and 
 turning away at the starting-handle with silent fury. 
 
 "Then explain it, if you please," insisted 'Toinette, 
 looking at me, with her hand on his shoulder. "I 
 know I am stupid about automobiles, for the language 
 of them is as Greek to my ears. Still, I shall be flat- 
 tered if you make me think myself clever enough to 
 understand." 
 
 50
 
 Champion 
 
 At least, I began to think myself clever enough to 
 understand her. I had not been given my perfect 
 mechanism for nothing; and it flashed into my cylin- 
 ders that this enticing young woman was playing a 
 deep game with Jean Arnaud. What might be her 
 object I could not tell yet, but an ominous weight of 
 dread pressed upon my wires. 
 
 Bewitched, Arnaud poured out the most intimate de- 
 tails of my construction, while she listened, trying to 
 veil her sharp interest behind a bewildered smile. "One 
 of our secrets is this new device for cooling by air," 
 he went on fatuously. "It's been tried many times, 
 but never with complete success. This time there is 
 no fear of failure. All is perfect volumes of air 
 pumped with scientific precision on to the cylinders ex- 
 actly where needed. No weight of water to carry a 
 dozen complications saved. No pipes to get loose, 
 no tanks to leak, no pump to go wrong, no radiator. 
 And the changes of speed are made wth compressed 
 air, too." 
 
 While he talked, Arnaud never stopped twisting my 
 starting-handle, but do what he would, I had made up 
 my mind not to start. Of course, I might easily have 
 flooded the carbureter, and expelled the crumbs, but 
 I had no intentions of relenting. 
 
 "Sale bete!" grumbled Arnaud under his breath. 
 "I've never seen her like this before. But it is always
 
 Champion 
 
 so, if you wish to show off with an automobile." He 
 searched about for the cause of my stubbornness, but 
 did not think of looking at the carbureter. 
 
 "What is this odd thing in front?" asked Mademoi- 
 selle, pointing to my strange screw. My valves quiv- 
 ered at this, but all the same, I hoped Arnaud would 
 tell her nothing. I wanted to know the mystery my- 
 self, but I did not want her to know it. 
 
 "Everything I have told you is a secret," replied 
 Jean, "but this is the profoundest secret of all. You 
 will swear never to repeat a word of what I say to you 
 now?" 
 
 "But whom should I tell, great stupid?" laughed 
 the pretty lady of the sequins. "And by the time I 
 leave you, do you suppose I shall remember two con- 
 secutive words well enough to make sense of them? 
 Still, I like to hear you speak of these things and to 
 watch your face as you talk. You have such a hand- 
 some, clever face, my Jean." 
 
 This last was a bigger fib than the rest, but Ar- 
 naud swallowed it all and was delighted. He was 
 so enmeshed by her now that he threw his last rag 
 of prudence under foot for her to trample with her 
 little high heels. "This is a kind of aerial screw- 
 propeller," he went on, "like the screw-propeller of a 
 ship, adapted to an automobile. But instead of pro- 
 pelling, like an ordinary screw, it sucks, like a fan." 
 
 52
 
 Champion 
 
 'Toinette clapped her hands, as he paused. "Oh, do 
 show me how it works!" she exclaimed. "That is 
 a most wonderful idea of yours. I must see it going, 
 so that I can be proud of you." 
 
 Again he tried to start me, but I would have burnt 
 up where I stood rather than give a single spark. Of 
 course, since I chose to behave like a dead thing, Ar- 
 naud could not show his 'Toinette how my screw 
 worked. As he flew at my starting-handle for the 
 fifteenth time, the clock by the door struck three, 
 which meant a quarter to nine, and 'Toinette gave 
 a startled cry. "Oh, I had forgotten!" she said. "I 
 must go instantly. I cannot afford to be late for my 
 turn. And when I have sung at the Tivoli, there is 
 only just time if I take an encore to rush into 
 my brougham and drive to the Palace. I must say 
 au revoir, but it shall be only that. Write me what 
 is the next night that your Monsieur Cameron will 
 be away about this hour, and I will come to you here 
 again dressed to go on to the stage, as now, so that 
 I shall have all the moments, up to the last, with you. 
 When I come next time, perhaps your 'marvel' will 
 be in a better humor; and perhaps, too, I shall have 
 a thing to tell you a great thing that will make your 
 heart beat." 
 
 "A thing about you?" asked Jean. 
 
 "Yes, about me and about you; about us both 
 
 53
 
 Champion 
 
 together. A thing that may mean much, oh, much 
 money. Enough for you to do what you like." 
 
 "Can't you tell me now?" Arnaud begged her. 
 
 "No, there is no time. Besides, I must see some 
 one else first, before I dare speak. Oh, I shall be 
 late. Can you open the window again, get out, and 
 then help me? That would be my quickest way. 
 No, no, you must not kiss me again. You will make 
 me miss my turn." 
 
 Arnaud switched off the light, and a moment later 
 she was gone, leaving behind a heavy perfume not 
 half so nice, in my opinion, as that of my own honest, 
 life-giving petrol. 
 
 54
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 / See tbe World and Find Myself. 
 
 I would have sacrificed my run in the open, and 
 put off my trial indefinitely, if by such self-abnegation 
 I could but have gained the power of telling my 
 Master what had happened in his absence. It was 
 enough to demagnetize my coil that I should be ob- 
 liged to stand there mute and inexpressive when Hugh 
 came back, all unsuspecting and full of confidence in 
 Arnaud. 
 
 That mean, love-sick traitor had covered me up 
 again, thus making of me a dumb conspirator when 
 he answered his Master's question by saying that 
 everything was right, as usual. Yes, he had eaten 
 his dinner in the workshop; afterward he had slept 
 a little; everything had been quiet; the car was ready 
 for the test. 
 
 "How about the crumb in my carbureter?" 
 I thought. But it would not have helped to expose 
 Arnaud's perfidy if I had continued obstinate when 
 my Master took me in hand ; and the moment he tried 
 to start me, I dislodged the tiny obstacle with an 
 effort which flooded it out with petrol. I saw Jean 
 glare at me viciously when I did for Hugh what I 
 
 55
 
 Champion 
 
 had refused to do for him, and I contrived to get 
 a spark of satisfaction out of his discomfiture and 
 surprise. 
 
 If it had not been for the disturbing knowledge 
 which I was unable to impart to my Master, I should 
 have been wildly happy as Hugh started me for my 
 first flight into the unknown world. 
 
 Arnaud opened the workshop doors and the still 
 larger doors of the big room outside. Hugh slowly 
 drove me through, just as the clock struck ten, and 
 as Arnaud hastily locked up the place and sprang to 
 his seat, we swept out into a wide, deserted thorough- 
 fare. 
 
 My only glimpses of the world beyond our work- 
 shop had been through the side window which was 
 always kept pulled well down at the top. It was so 
 high that there was no danger of my being spied upon ; 
 but I could see a brick wall, and a patch of moon- 
 shine or sunlight occasionally lay upon it, which some- 
 how made me feel happy and hopeful, as if it were 
 a shining prophesy of beautiful things to come. From 
 this brick wall, and its shifting patch of gold or silver 
 light; from the sound of wheels and horses' hoofs in 
 the streets; from the men and motors that inhabited 
 the big outer workshop, I had formed my ideas of 
 the world; but I had imagined nothing half so good 
 as the glorious reality into which I plunged like a fish 
 
 56
 
 Champion 
 
 into a crystal wave, as my Master guided me into the 
 waiting light. 
 
 At first I was entirely preoccupied with the joyous 
 new excitement of turning my wheels, and finding 
 that I advanced faster, faster, faster, always with 
 exquisite smoothness. Then followed an instant of 
 shamed confusion when I realized that I was emitting 
 a cloud of disagreeable-smelling smoke through my 
 silencer. This came because Arnaud had given me 
 too much oil; and disgusted with myself as I was, I 
 thought the best thing I could do was to burn it up 
 and get rid of the horrid stuff as quickly as possible. 
 
 Soon, it was gone; then, cheered and controlled by 
 the firm touch of the Master I loved and who loved 
 me, I began to "find myself" and the wonders of the 
 world in which I had been set free. Oh, the stars, 
 and the wind, and the good smell of the night! I 
 sang with joy of life and power, and my song was 
 strong and rhythmical as a mighty poem. It was the 
 full expression of my being, and I gloried in the sound 
 of it. 
 
 Just at first, as I rolled round corner after corner 
 of quiet streets before we shot out into open country 
 with the great gloaming bell of the sky overhead I 
 had a slight, a very slight stiffness of the joints, in 
 bounding forward. But so minute had been the care 
 lavished on every part of me, that with each yard I 
 
 57
 
 Champion 
 
 ran, the beneficent oil was able to penetrate my pores, 
 soothing all aches, giving a magnificent suppleness 
 and sense of well-being. 
 
 "Now, now," I said to myself, "I have a chance to 
 show him something of what I feel, my gratitude and 
 loyalty. Let me make him see that he has not labored 
 in vain." 
 
 So light was my Master's touch on the steering- 
 wheel that it seemed to testify his confidence in my 
 intelligence. Our relation was so intimate that I 
 felt we were talking to each other, as I rushed on, 
 obedient to his hand. Together we were working now, 
 each with an implicit belief in the other. 
 
 My wheels were behaving splendidly. They were 
 so springy that, as Hugh had prophesied, for me road 
 inequalities did not exist. There had been rain during 
 the day I had heard it coming down and the asphalt 
 over which we passed on our way out to the country 
 was as buttery as one of Arnaud's favorite sandwiches. 
 I was afraid of slipping when my wheels first slid on 
 to this greasy surface, and so disappointing my Mas- 
 ter; but I had reckoned without him. He had thought 
 of all that long before I was born, and had accordingly 
 fitted me with a neat appliance by which I could defy 
 slippery roads. I had small rollers with corrugated 
 surfaces, that ran on the ground inside, and parallel 
 to, my wheels. They were so arranged that, if I 
 
 53
 
 Champion 
 
 slipped even a couple of inches, the rollers, tilted 
 slightly, gently scratched the road with their tiny 
 corrugations, and at the same time pushed a wedge 
 into a groove bolted on to the inner side of my wheels. 
 When I began to be sure of my own trustworthiness, 
 it was almost a pleasure to feel the inclination to slip 
 and then right myself on the instant. 
 
 Soon we left the labyrinth of streets behind, and 
 flew out upon a broad highroad. How glorious it 
 was to be given my head, and allowed to rush on, on, 
 straight on, without being pulled in for silly little 
 turnings, just as I was getting into the spirit of the 
 thing! I had that delightful sense of fitness which I 
 now know springs from youth, from a sound consti- 
 tution, and a faultless working together of all organs 
 and functions. I knew that, of my kind, I was per- 
 fection, and worthy of the Master who had made me. 
 
 He let me take him out into the country on my top 
 speed. So sensitively did I govern myself, under his 
 hand, that I could change from four hundred to 
 twelve hundred revolutions in a fraction of a minute. 
 But though this discovery thrilled me, still I was very 
 far from realizing all my capabilities. 
 
 A lonely stretch of road glimmered before us under 
 the high, white stars. Suddenly, Hugh gave me all 
 the gas I could take, and pressed his foot on my ac- 
 celerator. Whiff! I was off on a race with the wind. 
 
 59
 
 Champion 
 
 I felt myself a thing of living fire, and, pulsing with 
 life, I devoured the straight, white miles as if they 
 had been long moonbeams. 
 
 I was doing my utmost now, yet there was no 
 strain, and I was deliciously sure that I could keep 
 up the same wild pace for hours on end if my Master 
 would consent, and if there were world enough. The 
 one impediment of which I was conscious was the 
 fierce opposing pressure on my bonnet of the air that 
 with all my strength I forced asunder as I ran, as 
 a swimmer tears apart the water with his hands. 
 
 I liked the sense of power which this act gave, for 
 it was I who conquered, and I liked the sound of the 
 baffled wind as I rushed through ; still, I grudged being 
 held back ever so little, as I could not deny that I was 
 held back. "If it were not for that wind," I thought, 
 as I hurled myself ahead, "I suppose I could go al- 
 most twice as fast. How would that feel, I wonder?" 
 
 Hardly had the question been sparked in and out 
 of my cylinders when a marvelous thing happened, 
 and the great mystery of my being was solved. 
 
 With a touch of his foot upon a pedal, Hugh di- 
 verted some of my energy from the main-shaft, and 
 I grew instantly conscious that it had been put to turn- 
 ing the winged screw which had caused me so many 
 restless hours. Quick as light, it began to revolve at 
 
 terrific speed. All pressure of air was gone. The 
 
 60
 
 Champion 
 
 wind, instead of being my enemy, had become my 
 friend my slave. My speed doubled. I seemed to 
 be racing down the vortex of a whirlwind, and keep- 
 ing pace with it. 
 
 All too brief was that flight in ecstasy. The lights 
 of a ridiculous village lay ahead. My Master with- 
 drew my energy from the propeller, which for a few 
 happy moments had made me a winged thing. I 
 ceased to suck in drafts of sparkling air with the 
 fan. The governor tranquilized me in spite of my- 
 self; reluctantly I simmered down into a walking pace, 
 thus passing through a sleeping street and out once 
 more into blessed freedom. 
 
 No longer was I jealous of the screw. To under- 
 stand what it could do for me was to value it beyond 
 all my other parts put together, and I was more than 
 ever thankful that I had swallowed one of Arnaud's 
 crumbs to prevent 'Toinette from learning the great 
 secret. As it was, she knew far too much about me, 
 had observed too much with her flashing black eyes, 
 the while she beguiled Arnaud. But this one feature 
 of mine in which I knew judging from all my Master 
 and Jean had said that I was so far superior to any 
 other created motor, remained a mysterious feature 
 
 for the Frenchwoman. I congratulated Hugh and 
 
 61
 
 Champion 
 
 myself upon this fact as again I gathered speed and 
 threw myself forward. For the second time, as all 
 lights, save the stars, vanished in our trail, that mag- 
 ical propeller of mine came into action, and my course 
 was like the course of a comet down the Milky Way. 
 Then, at last, we stopped. 
 
 My Master sprang from his seat with a sigh of in- 
 finite satisfaction, as refreshing to me as a new supply 
 of petrol. Arnaud also scrambled off my back. We 
 three were alone in the still country, and the smell 
 of the earth was passing sweet. Hugh laughed softly, 
 and patted me as he might pat a favorite animal. He 
 felt me all over, too, to see if I were heated; but 
 thanks to the currents of cool air with which I had 
 douched my cylinders, I was in fine condition. "Hur- 
 rah, she's only hand-warm!" my master exclaimed, 
 as he took an electric torch and examined every part 
 of me, peering into my gear-box, and* inspecting even 
 my clutch a liberty which I should have resented 
 from any one else. 
 
 "Does us proud, doesn't she, Arnaud?" he laughed, 
 in his modest way, which gave the Frenchman a pres- 
 ent of far more credit than he deserved. "Not a single 
 part has failed. This test is even more of a triumph 
 for us and the car than I dared hope. I wouldn't let 
 myself count on absolute perfection in the first trial, 
 
 but that's what we've got, eh? By Jove! if everything 
 
 62
 
 Champion 
 
 goes like this on the day of the race as I'm sure it 
 will now, why shouldn't it won't we make the whole 
 automobile world sit up? It's been waiting for us. 
 Now it's got us. And I think we may be pretty cer- 
 tain that it will appreciate us. I mean that Champion 
 shall be the goose to lay golden eggs for you, Arnaud, 
 as well as for me. It's right that you should have 
 a good share in the fortune which this invention will 
 bring, for you've been as faithful as you've been ef- 
 ficient. And if I hadn't got hold of a man I could 
 trust, for this big work which now we've finished to- 
 gether, it might just as well never have been begun." 
 
 How did Arnaud feel as he listened to these gen- 
 erous praises and promises which would have made 
 swell with joyful gratitude the heart of a man who 
 deserved them? 
 
 I tried with all my might to open an exhaust-valve 
 and explode into the air a reproach to him, a warning 
 to my Master. The secret which I could not commu- 
 nicate so rankled and burned within me, that I almost 
 choked with my own gas. 
 
 "That's the one drawback to being an automobile," 
 I said gloomily to myself, at this moment which ought 
 to have been one bright blaze of satisfaction. "You 
 can be the king of cars, as I've no doubt I am, since 
 my Master thinks so; but with all your power, you 
 can't save your best friend by hissing out the least 
 
 63
 
 .Champion 
 
 little thing you know, in words that he can understand. 
 I dare say, if I make any automobile friends I shall 
 find that I can gabble to them 1,200 revolutions to 
 the minute, but with the one being of all the world I 
 would give my crank-heads to talk to, I must remain 
 mute and cold, a mere machine." 
 
 Arnaud mumbled something, and his shamed stam- 
 mering gave the effect of genuine emotion, so that 
 my Master was more pleased with him than ever, 
 and as a reward allowed him to drive half-way home. 
 I would have played several pranks which occurred 
 to me, as a protest, if I hadn't been afraid that they 
 would have been misunderstood, and attributed to 
 incapacity. But I ventured to slow down and stretch 
 myself once or twice, being just lazy enough to please 
 my dear Hugh with the conviction that he could get 
 more out of me than the Frenchman could. 
 
 "I am to stop to-night?" Arnaud asked, when I had 
 reluctantly pointed my bonnet into the workshop. 
 
 "No," said my Master. "It's your turn, I know, 
 but well, I suppose it's sentimental, but somehow, 
 after the way she went for us this first night, you 
 see I have a feeling I'd like to be with her myself." 
 
 "As you please, sir," answered Arnaud, with an 
 exciting ring in his voice, I thought. And as he was 
 hastily wiping my body free from dust, I caught a 
 word or two which he muttered at his task. 
 
 64
 
 Champion 
 
 "Perhaps I might be in time yet," I fancied I heard 
 him say. Was he planning a late visit to his Toi- 
 nette ? 
 
 It was midnight, or close upon it; but maybe he 
 knew where she was supping, and meant to hurry off 
 and try to join her after he had made himself pre- 
 sentable. 
 
 I hoped that he would be too late. And I hoped 
 with every fiber of my steel that, if he were capable 
 of drowning conscience and doing our Master fur- 
 ther harm, I might in some way be able to circumvent 
 him.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 / See the Most Beautiful Girl of All. 
 
 Several days passed, during which nothing hap- 
 pened except that I was given two more night trials, 
 and acquitted myself to the satisfaction of all con- 
 cerned. 'Toinette did not come again, nevertheless I 
 was conscious of a stir of uneasiness under my bonnet. 
 
 It seemed to me that Arnaud was not himself. 
 There was little or no work to do upon me now, yet 
 he or else my Master was always at my side; and 
 each one, during his watch, amused himself by potter- 
 ing away at some little task of oiling, tightening, dust- 
 ing, or polishing. Hugh had the air of doing this 
 because he loved it, and could not keep his hands off 
 me; but Arnaud fussed over my parts in sheer nerv- 
 ousness. He often fumed about like a mad thing, 
 as if he dared not be idle; and I noticed particularly 
 that he no longer sang or even hummed at his work. 
 Not once since that visit of the beautiful sequined 
 lady had the air of "La Belle 'Toinette," or any other 
 passed his lips. Always he was heavily silent, unless 
 he sighed ; or, if alone at night in the shut-up building, 
 burst out with strange, incoherent exclamations, as 
 
 if his heart overflowed with some pent-up anguish. 
 
 66
 
 Champion 
 
 When he and my Master were together in the work- 
 shop they talked of the race in which I was to be 
 entered, and I learned that it would be the most unique 
 as well as the greatest event in the history of motoring. 
 Never had there been a race like it, and it was meant 
 to make a sensation. 
 
 A young American millionaire had bought a news- 
 paper in London; a newspaper, my Master explained 
 to Arnaud, which had been "down on its luck," 
 until American money and some startling American 
 methods had revived it. Wilfred Vandervoorst, the 
 proprietor of The World Day by Day, had an- 
 nounced in his paper and worked up a great boom 
 among automobilists by doing it that he would offer 
 a ten-thousand-pound cup for a motor-car race for 
 the newest types of automobiles. No car that had not 
 some distinctively novel feature could compete for 
 the Vandervoorst Surprise Cup Race; and the word 
 "Surprise" had a special signification as novel as the 
 idea which it embodied. It meant that the competing 
 cars need not be described by their makers or owners 
 before the race, although all winners in the contest 
 must submit to examination by experts immediately 
 after the race was over. 
 
 These matters I heard so constantly discussed be- 
 tween Hugh and Arnaud that they became familiar 
 
 to me, and I was so intensely excited about 
 
 67
 
 Champion 
 
 Master's fate and mine in the coming ordeal that I 
 was delighted when one day Arnaud brought in an 
 illustrated weekly paper with a large full-page pho- 
 tograph of Wilfred Vandervoorst. He showed it to 
 my Master, and then, tearing out the leaf, pinned the 
 picture upon the wall where I had it in full sight. 
 
 The face in the photograph was so handsome and 
 intelligent though not, to my mind, to be compared 
 to Hugh Cameron's that I augured well from it. 
 That young man's method might be sensational, but 
 it was because he was original, not vulgar, I said to 
 myself. And I thought that he looked exactly the 
 sort of person who would be quick to appreciate my 
 Master and me. 
 
 "He'll be there to watch the race," I thought ; "and 
 he'll see that justice is done, I'm sure." 
 
 There was a photograph of Gilbert Barr-Simons, 
 too, the man of whom Sheila had talked on the day 
 I was born. I had remembered the name because he 
 was an enemy of Hugh's, just as I should have kept 
 in my cylinders the name of any great friend of his, 
 though for a very different reason. They did not pin 
 up his picture on the wall of the workshop, but I had 
 a glimpse of it, as Jean was showing my Master that 
 and photographs of other prominent automobilists 
 interested in the Vandervoorst Cup Race. He was 
 
 not bad looking, this Barr-Simons, who. was a rival 
 
 68
 
 Champion 
 
 of Hugh Cameron's, I had to admit that; but there 
 was something about the long, dark face and the black, 
 clever eyes that made me think I should be sorry to 
 have the owner for my driver. I wondered whether 
 Sheila were staying with his wife still, or if she had 
 gone away immediately after what she heard from 
 her brother; and whether she would contrive to get 
 over to France in one way or another to see Hugh 
 win the race with his Champion. 
 
 For the race was to be run in France. Under the 
 conditions there was no place for it, my Master told 
 Jean, on this side of the Channel ; and listening eagerly 
 I heard all the plans being made to take me across the 
 water in a boat. I felt that I should be more easy 
 when the time came for us to go, for out of England 
 Arnaud would have passed away from that influence 
 of his Toinette which somehow I dreaded. 
 
 We were to start in the evening, after twilight, so 
 that I should not attract any attention, and my Master 
 was to drive me to Newhaven. He had been with me 
 all night before, and had been too excited to sleep or 
 even to keep still. I had never seen him so restless 
 before, and I guessed in my dim, inexperienced way, 
 that the long strain of hard work with suspense at 
 the end, was beginning to tell on his nerves. Perhaps 
 he felt this himself, for when Arnaud came in the 
 
 morning, Hugh proposed not to come back until late 
 
 69
 
 Champion 
 
 afternoon. I ought to have a good sleep if I can get 
 it," he said, confident of Arnaud's sympathy, "for 
 I shall drive to-night; and I want to be steady as a 
 rock for the day of the race." 
 
 Arnaud was somewhat too cordial, it seemed to me, 
 in his wishes for a long rest for Monsieur. "Now is 
 his time to send for his 'Toinette, if he means mis- 
 chief with her," I thought, quivering on my wheels 
 a little. And as the day crept along I was on the 
 alert; but she did not come. There was one thing, 
 though, that worried me more than usual for I had 
 never been at peace since the night of Toinette's 
 visit. As soon as my Master was well out of the work- 
 shop, Arnaud whipped O^L of his pocket a letter. But 
 though he whipped it out, he opened it carefully; 
 and I soon saw why. Inside were two bits of white 
 paper with engraving of some sort that looked like 
 printed writing, and big black figures on one side of 
 each of them. I know now that they were bank-notes, 
 for I have seen plenty since then; but in those days I 
 could only surmise that they must be valuable, at least 
 to Arnaud. He picked them gingerly from between 
 the pages of his letter, as if he were afraid they might 
 blow away, or be seized by some unseen spy. For a 
 long time he stared first at one and then at the other, 
 looking as if he could have eaten them both, and yet 
 
 as if he were deadly afraid that some one else would 
 
 70
 
 Champion 
 
 come and devour them before he could dr> it himself. 
 Then he read the letter over twice or thrice, with a 
 sick, anxious expression drawing his face into hag- 
 gard lines. Finally, after gazing at the notes again, 
 he put them back inside the letter, and stuffed the 
 letter hastily into a breast pocket of his coat. 
 
 Not once, but five or six times during the day did 
 he repeat this process; and when he was not re- 
 reading the letter or gazing at its enclosures he walked 
 about, running his fingers through his hair, muttering 
 to himself and groaning. Yet, after my Master came 
 back he did not again take out the letter, nor did he 
 say anything about it. 
 
 He had eaten no lunch, thpngh until lately he had 
 always shown a good appetite when he took his meals 
 in the workshop, but he drank nearly a whole flask 
 of some strong-smelling stuff which flushed his face 
 at first, and then turned it yellow. 
 
 "You're not knocked out, are you, Arnaud?" asked 
 Hugh kindly. Arnaud said, not at all ; he was merely 
 dreading the sea trip. He was such a bad sailor, that 
 it made him bilious only to think of it. 
 
 Before we started, the two dismounted my propeller, 
 swathed it up, and packed it carefully away on a plat- 
 form behind. That being done, after twilight and in 
 the eyes of an amateur, I might have been any other 
 big racing automobile. This was right, of course, 
 
 71
 
 Champion 
 
 but I was spoiled by my magical night flights, and it 
 was like being a fish out of water to have to travel 
 without my aerial screw. 
 
 It was not once needed, however, for my Master 
 did not ask me for any great speed on the way to 
 Newhaven. We jogged comfortably along, at the 
 childish pace of about thirty to forty miles an hour, 
 outside London, and some time in the night they got 
 me on board a big, ugly, noisy creature that called 
 itself a ship. A lot of gray, wet stuff was splashing 
 up and down, and there was a wild wind that my screw 
 would have sucked up like a glass of water. 
 
 I felt a sense of helplessness and ignominy at being 
 strung up by an unsympathetic crane, with all my 
 wheels off the ground, and as for the silly, rolling 
 motion in which that boat indulged herself when she 
 had lolloped out of the harbor, it was undignified and 
 even indecent. I was thankful when she made up her 
 mind, with an idiotic yell, to seek refuge in quiet water 
 again, which turned out to be in Dieppe harbor, on 
 the opposite side of the Channel from which we had 
 started. I was landed in the same disconcerting way 
 in which I had been slung on board ; but, after all, my 
 inner workings had not suffered as much on the sea 
 as Arnaud's had, judging from his face. 
 
 There we were on a French quay, in the gray of 
 
 early morning, I a little sulky; but my sulkiness van- 
 
 72
 
 Champion 
 
 ished as the darkness of night was vanishing, when I 
 had my Master by my side, and saw how pleased he 
 was to find me in good condition. Still, glad as I 
 was to have him with me, I was sorry to hear him 
 telling Arnaud that he might go off alone to make ar- 
 rangements for putting in order certain papers which 
 would regularly admit me into France. If I could 
 have spoken my thoughts, I should have begged Hugh 
 not to let Arnaud out of his sight until after the great 
 race was run. I meant to do all that was in me to 
 win it, and I did not see how Arnaud would have the 
 power to prevent me from winning once we had 
 started, for my Master would drive, not he. Still, I 
 had a horrible fear that he was in danger of selling 
 himself, if he had not quite sold himself already to 
 rivals of Hugh's, and I hated to see him given the 
 smallest chance of completing a bargain which per- 
 haps he had not yet sunk to accepting. 
 
 If he were in communication with enemies, they 
 were pretty sure to know when we were coming, and 
 I felt in my frame that they would be lying in wait 
 for a few persuasive words with the wretched Ar- 
 naud. However, it might have been even worse if 
 my Master had gone off and left me with Jean, for, 
 though it was too late for any one to steal my secret 
 and imitate me before the race, something might be 
 done to me which would put me out of the running. 
 
 73
 
 Champion 
 
 When Arnaud had disappeared, Hugh began to 
 take off the tarpaulin which had covered me up for 
 the stormy voyage, and get me ready for our journey 
 to Paris, which we would begin as soon as the formal- 
 ities of the customs were over. As he worked, I 
 darted interested glances here and there, keen to form 
 impressions of each new part of the world as it came 
 into my experience; and it seemed to me that the 
 people who passed and stared at me were very dull 
 and narrow-minded not to realize that I could see as 
 distinctly as they could, though my faculties were a 
 little different from theirs. 
 
 "Fancy these creatures not even knowing that I'm 
 alive, with an independent will anyhow to a certain 
 extent!" I was saying to myself, when a voice just be- 
 hind me said in English: "What a wonderful, pow- 
 erful great gray dragon! I do believe it's alive, and 
 has a soul." 
 
 It was a girl's voice which said that just as sweet 
 as Sheila's, though different; and I was so delighted 
 and so grateful to the one person besides my Master 
 who had ever given a sign of understanding my real 
 nature, that I longed to see the speaker, and do some- 
 thing to show my appreciation. 
 
 But she was standing behind me, as I said, and I 
 couldn't see so much as the tip of her head, or the toe 
 of her foot. I was sure, though, from her voice, 
 
 74
 
 Champion 
 
 that she must be pretty. It wouldn't be good work- 
 manship to waste a lovely voice like that on an ugly 
 creature, any more than it would be to fit a car like 
 me with a little, squeaky bicycle horn. 
 
 "Don't talk so loud about the automobile, Lia, or 
 the young man who's working on it will hear, and 
 think we're trying to attract his attention," murmured 
 another voice, not bad in its way, but sounding a bit 
 as if its owner talked through his nose; and if that 
 nose weren't the nose of an old gentleman, I'd have 
 been willing to eat up all my petrol before our start ! 
 
 "I don't care if he does hear, Dad, for there's no 
 harm in being interested in his automobile, it's such 
 a grand one and looks so different from others, some- 
 how though I couldn't exactly tell how," said the 
 girl I couldn't see. "I should just love to ask him if 
 he's going to run in the Vandervoorst Cup Race all 
 the papers are so full of. I do believe it's to-morrow." 
 
 "Pooh!" answered her "dad," in a low, but rather 
 cross tone. "You don't know anything about auto- 
 mobiles, and neither do I and we don't want to. 
 Come away, Cecilia, and let's get to work at what we 
 do want to do." 
 
 "Speak for yourself, Dad. I do want to know 
 things about automobiles, especially this one. But 
 you needn't look anxious. I'm not going to speak to 
 the young man, for the very good reason that he's 
 
 75
 
 Champion 
 
 probably French and couldn't understand a word I 
 say." 
 
 All this time my Master had been busily unwrapping 
 me, but I could tell by his touch the he was growing 
 a little absent-minded about his work. Suddenly he 
 spoke, laughing in his pleasant way, which I think no 
 creature, whether footed or wheeled, could resist. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said he, "but I'm not French, 
 and so I ought to tell you that I've understood, and 
 been very flattered by your kind words about my car. 
 Perhaps your good wishes will bring me luck ; for my 
 car and I will be trying our fortunes in the race, as 
 you thought." 
 
 "Well, you've the good wishes of both of us, hasn't 
 he, father?" exclaimed the girl. 
 
 "Certainly," agreed the old gentleman, politely, if 
 reluctantly; and then they both moved forward, into 
 my view. 
 
 My accelerator! but she was pretty. As it hap- 
 pened, the only two other women who had come near 
 enough to me to step into my life in any way, were 
 both beautiful. Hugh's sister, Sheila, and Arnaud's 
 Toinette. But this girl was prettier than either Sheila 
 or 'Toinette; prettier than any of the women of 
 whose faces I had caught glimpses here and there in 
 my twilight or moonlight runs. 
 
 She was dressed in a dark-blue dress, which was 
 
 76
 
 Champion 
 
 shoft enough to show two adorable little feet in 
 russet brown shoes, feet not much bigger than chil- 
 dren's feet, though about a hundred times daintier in 
 shape. On her head was a hat of dark-blue, like her 
 dress, behind it floating fold upon fold of blue veil, 
 which made an effective background for hair exactly 
 the color of a handful of new copper pennies, just 
 struck off by the mint, which I had admired when my 
 Master brought them into the workshop one day. I 
 remembered that incident, because when Hugh had 
 shown the pennies to Arnaud, saying there was a new 
 and striking effigy of the King on them, he had added, 
 "What a beautiful color new copper is much richer 
 than gold. This copper-red is the most gorgeous shade 
 in the world for a woman's hair, I think." 
 
 Now, here was a woman with hair of that color, 
 and her big, dark-gray eyes and her white skin seemed 
 to make it glitter more dazzlingly. She was young, 
 too as young as the morning, and her face was pearly 
 in the gleaming dawn. If she thought me wonderful, 
 I thought her wonderful, too the sweet, slender crea- 
 ture, so vivid and full of eager life, beside that tired- 
 looking, gray-haired father of hers, who took no in- 
 terest in me. 
 
 "It's just as my father says, I don't know anything 
 about autos," the girl went on. "But then, why 
 shouldn't I want to know? I don't know anything 
 
 57
 
 Champion 
 
 about Europe yet, because we only landed in Liver- 
 pool yesterday from New York, and came right over 
 here; but there's nothing about it I don't mean to 
 know, and father thinks I'm all right about that, so 
 why not about automobiles and everything else in 
 the world that's worth knowing about?" 
 
 "Why not, indeed?" asked my Master, smiling as 
 he looked at the beautiful young girl, glowing like a 
 rose now in her eagerness to find out everything in 
 life. "But you don't seem to have cared to know 
 much about my country." 
 
 "Your country?" echoed the girl. 
 
 "Not exactly mine, for I'm Scotch a 'wild High- 
 lander' but being British, perhaps I have a right to 
 call England my country, too." 
 
 "And you think we don't care about it, because we 
 didn't stop, I suppose; but that was because we care 
 so much. We wanted to see England at its loveliest, 
 and I've always heard that was in the spring. Dad 
 couldn't start last spring: he's only come at all to 
 please me, because he thinks he's too busy to amuse 
 himself; but he's awfully good about doing things to 
 please me, so he's promised to take me all over France 
 and Germany and Austria, then Italy when it gets cold ; 
 perhaps Spain and a little of the East, and, at last, all 
 May and June in England before we sail for home. 
 You see, we saved the best for the last." 
 
 78
 
 Champion 
 
 "I see. You are quite right," said my Master. But 
 he was admiring her so much that he would probably 
 have thought she was quite right to spend the summer 
 at the North Pole a place I'd often heard him men- 
 tion, apparently with some disparagement. 
 
 "I think we are keeping this gentleman from start- 
 ing," said the beauty's tired-looking father. "We had 
 better go now, Lia. I expect those officials will be 
 about their business by this time." 
 
 My Master hurried to explain that they were not 
 keeping him, because his mechanic had gone to see 
 about the car's papers. He was sure to be away a 
 long time, as custom house officers were always slow 
 in measuring their red tape. "It is so very kind of 
 you both to talk to me," he added. And he said it 
 so pleasantly that I could see the old gentleman visibly 
 thawing. He began to brighten up, and I thought that 
 perhaps he wasn't so old, after all, but had tried to 
 crowd about five years' work into each single year of 
 his life, which gave him that tired look. When he 
 heard that Hugh was waiting for something that had 
 to do with officialdom, he said that his daughter had 
 lost some of their luggage, or, rather, it could not be < 
 found when they had landed from the passenger-boat 
 a few hours earlier. 
 
 "We were advised to go to bed at a hotel near the 
 quay, and come back the first thing in the morning 
 
 79
 
 Champion 
 
 to see if anything had been learned about it," he went 
 on. "Well, it's the first thing in the morning now, and 
 here we are ; but not a soul who knows anything about 
 the matter of the missing hat-box has turned up yet. 
 I tell you we do things differently over my side of the 
 water, and I was prepared to find France pretty lively 
 and up to date, but this doesn't look like it, does it, 
 sir?" 
 
 My Master was very sympathetic more than he 
 would have been if the hat-box had been the father's 
 instead of the daughter's. He offered to help, as the 
 old gentleman and the girl confessed to knowing 
 hardly any French "except book French" and 
 finally to my pleasure as well as his it was settled that 
 they should stop until Arnaud came back. Then Hugh 
 would see the father and daughter through their diffi- 
 culties; and as they would not be far off, and might 
 come back at any moment, I didn't think that Arnaud 
 would have time to play any tricks with me. 
 
 Soon they were all three as friendly as if they had 
 known one another for days; and when they had told 
 each other their names the old man and the girl were 
 Murrays, and claimed Scotch ancestry, which pleased 
 my Master Miss Cecilia began asking more questions 
 about me. She thought Champion a splendid name, 
 "just right" for such a noble car, as well as prophetic; 
 
 and she was astonished when she was told that I was 
 
 80
 
 Champion 
 
 the first of my kind, that no hands had touched me 
 in the making of any important parts, except those of 
 my Master and one other man, his employee. 
 
 "If I won the race," said Hugh, "I should become 
 the father of many cars, built from the same designs." 
 
 "And do you think Champion will win?" asked the 
 girl. 
 
 "Barring accidents, I don't see that we need fear 
 anything else," answered Hugh. 
 
 Ah! that was it, "barring accidents." What was 
 Arnaud doing? I wondered. Was it only the busi- 
 ness of my papers that kept him away so long? 
 
 "I shall be thinking about you and Champion all 
 day to-morrow," said Cecilia. "So will Dad. It's like 
 knowing a horse before a race. I'm a Kentucky girl 
 at least, I was born there, and we didn't come to live 
 in New York until I was twelve. Maybe you know, 
 in Kentucky we think a lot of horses and sport of all 
 kinds. And once I was allowed to ride a famous horse 
 only two or three days before he won a big race. I 
 shall never forget how I felt and how glad I was 
 when my horse won." 
 
 "How I wish I could give you a spin on Champion !" 
 said Hugh. "Then perhaps you would feel something 
 like that if we bring it off in the great race." 
 
 "Oh, I would give anything in the world to do it 
 
 just anything in the world !" the girl whispered. 
 
 81
 
 Champion 
 
 "Well, then, why shouldn't you?" exclaimed my 
 Master. "Would you let me take her, Mr. Murray?" 
 
 "She's never been on an automobile," hesitated the 
 tired-looking gentleman, "and I don't know that I'm 
 very anxious to have her go." 
 
 "Oh, but Dad, if it would make me happier than 
 anything else possibly could ? and you brought me to 
 Europe to make me happy!" cried Miss Cecilia. 
 
 "I'll tell you what we might do. It would be a 
 splendid plan," said Hugh eagerly. "We could send 
 Arnaud into the town to hire another car not a racer, 
 of course and he could drive it to Paris with you and 
 the luggage, Mr. Murray, keeping close to me, while 
 I drove Miss Murray on Champion. Would you con- 
 sent to that?" 
 
 "I'm afraid that really " began Mr. Murray ; but 
 
 his daughter cut him short. 
 
 "Oh, Dad, you can't refuse such a chance for me, to 
 have the time of my life !" she coaxed, at the same time 
 slipping her hand through her father's arm. I'm sure 
 if she had tried in that way to steer me up a hill of 
 one in two, or a flight of stairs as steep as a ladder, 
 I should have gone without a sigh from my silencer; 
 and the tired gentleman was too tired to resist long. 
 He objected, and argued, but she cooed him down, and 
 presently it was settled to the satisfaction of three in 
 
 the party counting me that the beautiful Miss Mur- 
 
 82
 
 "HE OBJECTED, AND ARGUED, BUT SHE COOED HIM DOWN." 
 
 (f. 82.)
 
 Champion 
 
 ray should be Hugh's companion and mine on the way 
 to Paris, instead of going there by train as she had 
 expected to do. 
 
 This was just decided, when Arnaud appeared with 
 the papers, apologizing glibly for the delay, and cast- 
 ing a furtive eye on the strangers, though he was too 
 well trained to show surprise that his master should 
 have picked up friends. He could not keep his fea- 
 tures under the same control, though, when he heard 
 the plan for the day. His face fell, and for an instant 
 there was such an odd, hunted look in his eyes that I 
 felt there was more in his chagrin than mere disgust 
 at being told off to drive an unknown old gentleman 
 in a common, hired car. 
 
 "Something was arranged to happen on the jour- 
 ney," I said to myself gloomily, "something that he 
 doesn't know how he is going to rearrange now. What 
 was it ?"
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 / Come to Paris. 
 
 If Arnaud had been planning any treachery for the 
 journey to Paris, there was danger that, when he went 
 in search of another car, he might find an opportunity 
 of rearranging his plot to suit altered circumstances. 
 
 I had not an easy moment until he came back, dri- 
 ving a mincing piece of affectation, which, I suppose, 
 called itself an automobile. It was all red paint and 
 brass, and fussy little fringes on a kind of canopy, but 
 Arnaud said it was the best he could do at short no- 
 tice, as all the finest and most modern cars at the 
 Dieppe garages were out or engaged, and they would 
 not let even this one go to Paris without a chauffeur 
 from the place where it was hired. 
 
 Arnaud was the picture of sullen discontent, and I 
 chuckled in my bonnet, for I thought that his silent 
 rage was too deep for mere vexation at losing a ride 
 on me, or even being obliged to conduct strangers in 
 a bad car. "Perhaps he tried to find the enemy to tell 
 him of the changed plan, and failed to come across 
 him," I said to myself, beginning to cheer up. 
 
 It was better than a bath of oil when your engine 
 was overheated to see the pleasure of jthat beautiful 
 
 84
 
 Champion 
 
 girl at the prospect of a spin with me ; and, besides, the 
 conceit of the little superannuated red automobile 
 would have made a cracked cylinder rattle with laugh- 
 ter. The poor thing actually thought itself superior 
 to me, and put on the airs of a languishing beauty, 
 telling me about its successes in the past. Some racers 
 would have snubbed it, but I thank my sparks my 
 Master must have cast a little of his own sense of 
 humor in my metal; therefore, I was highly amused 
 at the ignorance of the poor little wretch, and then 
 it was my first chance to exchange ideas with any 
 creature of my own kind. 
 
 Poor Reddy thought I was ugly because I was of 
 English make, and sniffed out its opinion that women 
 and automobiles from across the Channel had no style. 
 "Now, I am so attractive with my nice bright paint 
 and smart cushions, and brass, and my clean white 
 fringe that my people can easily get four louis a day 
 for letting me out," the creature whiffled, as she stood 
 by my side while they loaded her up with luggage from 
 the hotel, and luggage retrieved from some mysterious 
 hiding-place on the quay. "How much do your people 
 get for you? I shouldn't say much, for, if you'll 
 excuse me, I never saw anything quite so outre as the 
 shape of your body, and your color is rather forbid- 
 ding, to say nothing of your having only two seats, 
 which scarcely deserve the name."
 
 Champion 
 
 "My Master never lets me, and I don't think he 
 would," I said quietly, at which little Reddy chuckled 
 rudely. 
 
 "Say 'could' instead of 'would,' and you'd be nearer 
 the mark, my poor, plain friend," said she smartly. 
 But I was almost sorry for the little horror presently, 
 when Miss Murray laughed at her fringe, and ex- 
 claimed that she looked like a doll's house on wheels. 
 I was glad, too, that I hadn't made any unchivalrous 
 retort, when I saw the expression on poor Reddy's 
 bonnet as I started, and left her limping far behind. 
 
 Off I flew, like an arrow compared to her little 
 pottering power, and my Master had to be constantly 
 slowing down, otherwise we should not have seen 
 Mr. Murray, Arnaud, and Reddy again until they had 
 crawled after us to Paris. I kept wishing that this 
 very thing might happen, and did my best to bring 
 it about; but my Master wouldn't give me my head, 
 much as he would I'm sure have liked doing it. I 
 know now, with all my experience of the world, and 
 its funny, conventional ideas, which it takes so se- 
 riously, that girls are never allowed to go off alone 
 with young men for any length of time unless they 
 are relations, or have agreed to be married ; but I was 
 blissfully ignorant of such nonsense then, and I 
 thought it very silly of the old gentleman to spoil his 
 daughter's day by keeping her under his eye, and me
 
 Champion 
 
 at almost a walking pace of twenty miles or so an 
 hour. Indeed, I was even tempted once or twice to 
 criticize my Master, and think him wrong to humor 
 the girl's father. 
 
 She often looked back over her shoulder to see how 
 Reddy and Reddy's passenger were getting on, or 
 to wave her hand ; and then she would pay some com- 
 pliment to me not as if she wanted to be flattering, 
 but as if she was so happy that she couldn't help say- 
 ing kind things. 
 
 After we had been traveling for some time, and 
 she had told anecdotes about herself and her past life 
 to Hugh, and Hugh had told things about himself and 
 his pretty sister, Sheila, to her, she broke out suddenly : 
 
 "I wonder if you'd think me very bold and officious 
 if I said something odd to you?" 
 
 I had been enjoying the scenery for a few minutes, 
 and hardly listening to the conversation, but her 
 change of tone was so abrupt that I pricked up my 
 valves and stopped trying to count apple-trees in the 
 orchards through which we passed. 
 
 "I couldn't think you bold or officious," answered 
 my Master. "I'm not so stupid as all that, you know, 
 though I am a Britisher." 
 
 They both laughed at this, for they had been chaff- 
 ing each other about their rival countries; but the 
 girl still hesitated,
 
 Champion 
 
 "I haven't any right to say what I want to," she 
 went on. "Maybe it will offend you?" 
 
 "I promise you it won't," returned Hugh, who al- 
 ways said exactly the kind of thing I wanted him to 
 say, as I had often thought before. "You couldn't 
 want to say anything which would offend me. If it's 
 about Champion " 
 
 "Oh, I should only have praise for Champion, if 
 I talked all day and half the night," laughed the girl. 
 "It's about Champion's chauffeur. I don't like his 
 face, Mr. Cameron, and I hate to think you trust him 
 so much. I watched the man, and he never once met 
 your eye when he spoke to you. There's something 
 queer about his manner, too. I suppose he isn't mad, 
 is he?" 
 
 "Not he," said Hugh, "he's only tired out with 
 hard work and many vigils; and his Latin blood is 
 boiling with excitement about the race. He'll probably 
 collapse after it's all over, but I don't believe he'll 
 fail me while I need his help; he never has yet." 
 
 "Don't trust too much to his help," said the girl. 
 "Think of all you've told me about this race how it 
 means everything to you for your future. What if 
 your man has been bought by those who would like 
 to steal your invention?" 
 
 "It's angelic of you to take an interest," exclaimed 
 
 Hugh, "But I think you misjudge Arnaud, If I 
 
 68
 
 Cfiampion 
 
 win the ten thousand pound prize, he knows I mean 
 to give him a clear thousand; so he's likely to keep 
 straight for mercenary motives, if not for loyalty. 
 He's confided to me that he is in love with a country- 
 woman of his own some pretty French girl who's 
 singing at a music-hall in London. It's quite a ro- 
 mance, I believe, for it seems the girl's rather a swell 
 in her way handsome, and a great favorite with the 
 music-hall public of which I'm not one, so I've never 
 heard or seen her. Arnaud used to go, when he could 
 get off after I brought him to England to work for 
 me every night to all the music-halls where she sang 
 some song that had made a hit. Then he began send- 
 ing her presents, and writing letters of the humblest 
 adoration, but at first she paid not the slightest atten- 
 tion to her lowly admirer. At last, however, when 
 he had given up hope of receiving any word or sign 
 from her though apparently she kept his offerings ! 
 she answered, and invited him to call. 
 
 "That was the beginning of the acquaintance, and 
 now Arnaud is in the seventh heaven of incredulous 
 delight because his divinity has vaguely encouraged 
 him to hope, if he can make money enough to support 
 a wife as she ought to be supported. All this he told 
 me only last night; so you see a great deal is hanging 
 in the balance for the man as well as the master. And 
 if you have the kindness for a, love-affair that young
 
 Champion 
 
 ladies are said to have, perhaps this little story will 
 have softened your heart to poor Arnaud?" 
 
 "I'm not sure it hasn't worried me more," said the 
 girl. "He doesn't look the sort of a man a singer of 
 that sort would commit an imprudence for. He isn't 
 a bit handsome or dashing." 
 
 "Yet, apparently, he made an impression." 
 
 "Apparently. But how? You say the woman 
 wouldn't have anything to do with him at first. "Why 
 did she suddenly change her mind?" 
 
 "I thought that was a woman's privilege." 
 
 "So it is, when she has a good reason. But I don't 
 see that Arnaud is a good reason. He has a common 
 face." 
 
 "Clever." 
 
 "Would that appeal to such a girl? I wonder if 
 he ever talked to her about your car?" 
 
 "He would probably have bored her to death if he 
 had. Women only care to talk about their own motor- 
 cars." 
 
 "Am I not talking to you and caring to talk 
 about your Champion?" 
 
 "Ah, but you're an exception. I never met any girl 
 at all like you." 
 
 "Did you never know any other American ones?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 'Tsrhaps, if you had, you'd think we were all ali^e," 
 
 90
 
 Champion 
 
 "Oh, no, I shouldn't." 
 
 "How can you tell?" 
 
 "I have a conviction that if I searched America I 
 shouldn't be able to find another like you." 
 
 "You won't trust my conviction; why should you 
 trust your own, which is only a man's ? Women have 
 a sort of corner in such things." 
 
 "Well, I have a secondary conviction, which is, that 
 you'd not be so hard on Arnaud if he were a hand- 
 some fellow." 
 
 "How unkind you are! But promise me you won't 
 let him drive Champion in the race." 
 
 "I'll promise that with pleasure." He didn't be- 
 little his promise by explaining that he'd never meant 
 Arnaud to drive. 
 
 "And that you won't once leave him alone with your 
 car till after the race is safely over." 
 
 "I'll promise that, too." I squeaked a little with 
 joy when I heard this; for if Hugh hadn't wished to 
 please Miss Cecilia Murray he would have been very 
 likely to give me unsuspectingly into Arnaud's charge 
 for the night. Now, thanks to her extraordinary in- 
 tuition and sympathetic interest in my success, one 
 danger that I myself had no power to ward off was 
 averted. 
 
 Hardly had my Master given his word, which 
 pledged him to remain continually at my side until our 
 
 9*
 
 Champion 
 
 fate was decided, when a loud tooting of Reddy's 
 bronchitic little horn caused him to slow down, and 
 then to run back. 
 
 That was because Reddy had stopped, I soon learned 
 from a few words which passed between my Master 
 and Miss Cecilia or "Lia," as she was called by her 
 father. Arnaud shouted that something was wrong, 
 and then, leaving Reddy's chauffeur to tinker sulkily 
 at her inner workings, he came to my side, beginning 
 to jabber very fast in French. He had been driving 
 without the slightest difficulty, he said, though the 
 chauffeur pretended that he did not thoroughly under- 
 stand the car, and the breakdown was clearly not his 
 fault. But the other man had the vanity of a monkey, 
 and was ready to attribute all the trouble to him. The 
 chauffeur silly fellow vowed that if he were al- 
 lowed to drive he could keep up with the racer, without 
 damaging his car. Now, would the Honorable Mon- 
 sieur Cameron allow him Arnaud to forge ahead 
 of Champion and keep ahead, if even for a short time, 
 just to prove to the conceited idiot that if any speed 
 could be got out of the little old automobile, Jean 
 Arnaud could do it as well, if not better, than one 
 who was used to driving her every day? 
 
 "Oh, certainly, I'll let you have a fair start, and 
 show what you can do," laughed my Master. "But 
 make the chap hurry up, won't you?"
 
 Champion 
 
 "He will be ready in a minute, unless he is a fool," 
 said Arnaud. "It's the pump that was not working 
 properly, and so I told him, though he wouldn't be- 
 lieve it till he had seen for himself." 
 
 The Frenchman ran off, and I expected a little con- 
 versation to follow with Mr. Murray ; but his daughter 
 told Hugh to look back and see how eagerly her father 
 was watching the progress of repairs. "He's interested 
 in automobiles already, in spite of himself," she said. 
 "That's a good thing, for after this day's glorious ex- 
 perience I sha'n't give him any peace till he buys one 
 for us to tour about in. But tell me, why did your 
 chauffeur call you the 'Honorable Monsieur Camer- 
 on'? Is that just his way of speaking, or have you a 
 title or something?'' 
 
 "Not a bit of it," said Hugh hastily. "It's only a 
 silly sort of courtesy handle, all nonsense, you know; 
 but Arnaud is a bit of a snob, and has a womanlike 
 idea that it will impress people." 
 
 "But just what does it mean, anyhow?" asked Miss 
 Cecilia. "In my country, when people are 'Honor- 
 ables/ they're either judges, or senators, or congress- 
 men, or public sort of characters." 
 
 "Nothing so grand about me," said Hugh. "The 
 'Honorable' comes to me whether I like it or not, on 
 account of my father." 
 
 "You might gratify my curiosity and explain." 
 
 93
 
 Champion 
 
 "You see, he's a parson." 
 
 "Does that make his son an 'Honorable'? What a 
 funny British custom." 
 
 "It ought to, but it doesn't. However, the real way 
 is just as funny, I dare say; it depends on how you 
 look at it. He happens also to be a viscount, so as 
 that isn't high enough up in the peerage to give his 
 children titles, they have handles instead. Isn't it 
 silly?" 
 
 "I think it's rather fun. I should be quite proud of 
 it, if I were you," said Lia. 
 
 "I'm not, a bit. A man ought to be rich to live up 
 to that sort of thing, whereas I well, I've spent every 
 penny I have in the world making this blessed car. If 
 I fail in the race I shall be blotted out. I practically 
 sha'n't exist. If I win, why, Champion and I will 
 loom big in the eyes of Europe for a day or two 
 quite long enough for the starting of a big syndicate 
 for the manufacturing of other motors with all Cham- 
 pion's peculiarities and virtues. That's what I've been 
 working for; and most of the prize if I get it will 
 go into that company. I shall have my invention pat- 
 ented immediately after the race, and all will be well." 
 
 "Why didn't you have it patented before? I never 
 heard of such a reckless thing." 
 
 "It isn't as reckless as it sounds." And then he went 
 on to explain, as he had to Sheila, that there was a 
 
 94
 
 Champion 
 
 man an enemy of his who might have got access 
 to his secret from the diagrams, and rushed in an idea 
 of his own before Hugh's business could have been 
 completed. "Once I've won this race, the whole world 
 will know what Champion is," he went on, "and no 
 one can lay claim to having had the idea before me." 
 
 "Well, don't trust your Arnaud too far," Lia reit- 
 erated, and just then the little red car shot by us, Mr. 
 Murray taking off his traveling-cap to wave, and look- 
 ing quite excited behind his eyeglasses. 
 
 We were close to a little place named Forges les 
 Eaux, it seemed, when this happened, and my Master 
 pleased Arnaud and the strange chauffeur by trailing 
 meekly at Reddy's heels as we passed through the 
 market-place of the town, out again into open country. 
 Suddenly, as we were trotting slowly along, humoring 
 Reddy, Arnaud put on his best speed, and the scarlet 
 car, surprised at its own wild pace, jumped ahead at 
 something like thirty miles an hour more than it 
 could keep up, over the first stretch of rising ground. 
 
 "Hello!" I said to myself. "So this was Arnaud's 
 game. It means something queer, there's no doubt, 
 and I must have been dreaming not to have suspected 
 it before." 
 
 My impulse was to spring forward, overtake Reddy, 
 and see what Arnaud was about, but my Master had 
 no such anxiety. He was delighted to have the girl 
 
 95
 
 C h a rrf p i o n 
 
 comfortably to himself, I guessed, with her father 
 far in front, instead of following close behind, so he 
 held me back instead of letting me rush on according 
 to my will. Even the girl had no suspicion, and the 
 two talked and laughed, while it was a wonder my car- 
 buration did not go wrong in my impatience. 
 
 When we did come in sight of Reddy again, she 
 had slackened speed for a hill, up which she was toil- 
 ing painfully; and when Hugh, laughing, called out 
 to Arnaud that really he should have to pass him now, 
 Arnaud answered, "Pass, Monsieur, and welcome. I 
 have made my little effect, thank you. All is well." 
 
 His voice sounded quite cheerful, and I was sure 
 that his words had a double meaning. He had made 
 "little effect," and "all was well." What, then, had 
 happened at this spot which Arnaud had desired to 
 reach before us? 
 
 "We've just seen such a fine automobile," said Mr. 
 Murray, as we passed him on the hill, "a bit like yours 
 in shape, so I suppose it must have been another racer. 
 If you hurry you can see it still, maybe, when you get 
 to the top of the hill beyond." 
 
 We did hurry, though I don't think it occurred to 
 my Master that the prescence of the "fine automobile" 
 had any connection with us. 
 
 What we did see, however, was only a far, gray 
 
 cloud of dust in the distance, which effectually hid 
 
 96
 
 Champion 
 
 whatever object it might contain; and Hugh had too 
 much consideration for Mr. Murray's feelings as a 
 father to quicken his pace and overtake the thing, even 
 had he been moved by curiosity to do so. 
 
 We almost stopped at the top of the hill, and waited 
 politely for Reddy to come up with us again. 
 
 "Your chauffeur was acquainted with the men in 
 that other car," said Mr. Murray. "I don't know if 
 they had had an accident, but, anyhow, they were sta- 
 tionary in the little cross-road with the poplars, which 
 you must have noticed just before the hill; and your 
 chauffeur called out something to them in French. 
 With that, they made off as if the fiend was after them. 
 I can't get him to understand my English, so do ask 
 him to explain what happened. My curiosity was 
 aroused, especially as the other chauffeur, who speaks 
 English very well, insists that your man didn't call 
 out in French, because he couldn't understand a word 
 that was said." 
 
 My Master looked surprised to hear that Arnaud's 
 English had suddenly failed in such an emergency, 
 for he knew even better than I did, perhaps, that when 
 Arnaud chose he could speak English quite respectably, 
 if not fluently, and understand any ordinary conver- 
 sation, too. But then, possibly, Mr. Murray's Ameri- 
 can pronunciation and accent might have made some 
 difference with ears not accustomed to it. 
 
 97
 
 Champion 
 
 "Who were the men in the automobile you saw, Ar- 
 naud?" asked Hugh in French, more to please Mr. 
 Murray, I think, than because he cared to know. 
 
 "They were strangers to me, sir," replied Arnaud. 
 "I but asked them if anything was the matter, or if 
 they needed help, and they answered that they were 
 all right now, thanked me, and passed on, taking the 
 road to Paris. They, perhaps, started from Dieppe 
 before us, and were en panne at this place for some 
 time. Probably we shall see them again on the day 
 of the race." 
 
 "There was no other car on our boat when we 
 crossed last night," said my Master. 
 
 "No, Monsieur; but I heard that a number of men 
 with their motors had come over by the previous boat, 
 and spent the night at Dieppe, starting again at dawn." 
 
 "Were the men in the car Frenchmen?" went on 
 Hugh. 
 
 "They looked Spanish, and I addressed them in that 
 language, which I speak only indifferently well; but 
 it proved that I was right, for they replied in the same 
 tongue." 
 
 Hugh translated the conversation for the benefit of 
 Mr. Murray, whose curiosity was at last satisfied; but 
 not so mine. I remembered very well that Sheila had 
 asked her brother if he thought Gilbert Barr-Simons 
 
 were a Spaniard, and I wished that he might remem- 
 
 98
 
 Champion 
 
 her, too ; but he showed no sign of so much as recalling 
 Barr-Simons' existence. 
 
 I knew now why Arnaud had wanted an excuse to 
 be in front of us at this particular part of the road, 
 but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know what 
 Arnaud had really said in Spanish. 
 
 As for explaining that he had fancied the men might 
 be Spaniards, and tried that language on the chance, 
 it seemed to me all nonsense; for how could he tell 
 whether they might not be of some other southern 
 nation? I didn't believe that Spaniards could be told 
 at a glance from Italians, or even Frenchmen; but 
 then, my suspicions were on the alert, owing to what 
 I already knew of Arnaud; and perhaps it was not 
 unnatural that my Master and the others let the state- 
 ment pass unchallenged. 
 
 Had I been able to choose my own pace, only shown 
 my way by my Master's hand on the steering-wheel, I 
 should have done the whole journey in a few hours; 
 but suiting my steps to puffy little Reddy's, and stop- 
 ping a long time for lunch, it was nearly evening 
 when we reached the outskirts of a great city, and 
 Hugh cried "Paris!" 
 
 There was no sound of relief in his voice though," 
 rather the contrary, and I guessed why, for I felt 
 somewhat as he did. It seemed to me that, though the 
 world was a very good world, and a fine place to run 
 
 99
 
 Champion 
 
 about in, it would never be as gay again if we were to 
 lose sight of a pair of big, gray eyes, and a crown of 
 waving hair with a copper glint upon it. But we were 
 not to lose them not yet, in any case for Lia said to 
 Hugh, as we drove into Paris, that she had made up 
 her mind to be present at the great race. "Dad thought 
 of stopping quietly in Paris for a while," she said, 
 "but I'll get him to take me wherever the race is going 
 to be, and then come back to Paris later." 
 
 "Perhaps he won't consent; he doesn't care much 
 about motors," said Hugh, quite anxiously. 
 
 "Not consent!" repeated the girl. "To something / 
 want? Why, what do we American girls bring their 
 fathers up for ? He mayn't care much about motors 
 just yet; but he cares whole bushel-basket fuls for me. 
 And I'm going to see that race!" 
 
 "I'll look for you," said my Master. "And after- 
 ward? I'm not going to lose you afterward, am I?" 
 
 "Oh, afterward! Who knows about the after- 
 ward!" And Lia laughed, as if she enjoyed teasing 
 him a little. 
 
 When the "afterward" came, I thought about those 
 words of hers, and they rang through my cylinders 
 sometimes, so that I could hear nothing else for the 
 echoing sound of them; nothing else but beautiful 
 Lia Murray laughing, and saying: "Who knows 
 about the 'afterward'?" 
 
 100
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 / Start to Win the Cup. 
 
 My Master kept his Word to Lia, and slept on the 
 floor beside me, in a private garage he had hired. 
 Next morning, early, I was taken out and driven away 
 from Paris again. But before we left the great, gay 
 city we stopped under the windows of a big hotel, and 
 my Master made a little music with my siren. That 
 must have been a signal agreed Upori, for though it 
 was so early that the best shops were all fast asleep 
 still, one of the windows flew open, and Lia Murray 
 leaned out. She was dressed in white and wore no 
 hat to cover her copper hair, so she looked prettier 
 than ever. 
 
 The window Wasn't very high Up, and she called 
 down: "The best of luck for to-morrow! And Dad 
 and I are corning." 
 
 My Master's cap was off, and he waved it once to 
 her. Then I Was whirled round a corner, rather dis- 
 appointed, for I had hoped that rfty Master Would 
 drop Arnaud and take Lia with us again, as he had 
 yesterday. But I have learned since that the pleasant- 
 est things are not likely to happen twice in succession. 
 
 We ran out of Paris, through endless green country 
 
 101
 
 C n a m p i o n 
 
 fair, young green, sprinkled with blossoms, pink and 
 white to a distant town many kilometers south of the 
 capital, which was to be the starting-point for the 
 Vandervoorst Cup Race. There I was put into an- 
 other private garage, which I had all to myself, ex- 
 cept for my Master. I heard Arnaud offer to stop 
 with me through the night and relieve Hugh, but the 
 promise to Lia was in the way, and though Arnaud 
 urged, and almost insisted, seeming so hurt that I 
 know Hugh hated to refuse, still my Master would 
 not yield. That made me very hopeful, and I told 
 myself that the danger, whatever it had been, was over 
 now ; for was not Hugh going to drive me to-morrow, 
 and, if he did, who and what could prevent us from 
 winning ? 
 
 Arnaud stayed late talking to our Master, and ap- 
 peared again long before it was light, looking haggard 
 and red-eyed, as if he had not slept much. It was only 
 two o'clock, and black as a pocket, but evidently we 
 were to start early, for they began at once to look me 
 over, examining all my parts hastily yet thoroughly. 
 As they oiled and rubbed me, filling me up with life- 
 giving petrol, they talked in tones which tried not to 
 be excited. 
 
 I listened with eager interest as they discussed the 
 great circuit which had been marked out for the race, 
 a circuit where all the competing cars were to go
 
 Champion 
 
 round three times, beginning soon after dawn, in an 
 order to be determined by the drawing of lots. 
 
 The cars were to be started at intervals of five min- 
 utes, and there would be certain halting-places called 
 controls, where times were to be taken and fresh fuel 
 could be supplied. But I had not heard half what I 
 wanted to hear before I was driven off to the starting- 
 point; and once on the road my Master and Arnaud 
 fell into silence, as if they were afraid of betraying 
 some emotion to each other if they talked. 
 
 I had thought that I was beginning by this time to 
 know a good deal of the great world and its phases, 
 but now I realized all in a moment that real life had 
 been a closed book for me. It was only on this day 
 with the gray, early dawn of this day that it had in- 
 deed opened for me, and opened at a page full of 
 wonderful knowledge. What would happen for my 
 Master when the page had turned over? Ah! that 
 was a question that sent the petrol throbbing to my 
 carbureter. 
 
 Hundreds, thousands of other people besides Hugh 
 Cameron were thinking of this race, and nothing but 
 this race, to-day. 
 
 Along both sides of a broad, straight road stretched 
 a vast encampment, like a dream army in the dim, 
 illusive light. 
 
 Grand stands, draped with flags, were already be- 
 
 103
 
 Champion 
 
 ginning to fill with groups of people, women as well 
 as men. More motor-cars than I could count Were 
 drawn up on the dusty grass along the straight, white 
 line of the road; red, gray, blue, green, and yellow mo- 
 tor-cars, covered and uncovered, very grand new ones, 
 small battered old ones. Wooden pavilions for re- 
 freshment, with banners waving, and big boards dis- 
 played, advertising the list of their specialties, towered 
 above the rows of canvas tents; and here and there 
 were odd little erections which later I discovered Were 
 offices for telegraphing the news of the race. Among 
 the tents and the pavilions so closely ranged together 
 flowed a continuous stream of dark figures, aimless, 
 apparently, as the swarms of ants I had seen ih the 
 country when we rested to lunch or to renew water of 
 petrol; yet each separate form had its object and in- 
 terest. 
 
 As for me, I was naturally more intent upon the 
 competing motors my rivals than upon any other 
 center of the extraordinary scene. I was driven near 
 to them, and I was astonished at the difference in 
 their principal features, the difference not only be- 
 tween them and the touring cars drawn up as spec- 
 tators at a respectful distance, but at the way in 
 which the competitors differed from one another. 
 Often you would hardly have supposed they belonged 
 
 to the same breed. 
 
 104
 
 Champion 
 
 I knew from all I had heard that the Vandervoorst 
 Clip had been offered especially to encourage invent- 
 ors, and give an opportunity for the exhibition of rival 
 ideas in automobile construction, but many of the 
 creators seemed to have gone out of their way to make 
 their cars look as fantastic as possible, perhaps in the 
 hope of drawing public attention to them, and thus 
 securing an advertisement. 
 
 As we glided by a nest of grotesque horrors, gaunt 
 and gray in the dawn, as skeletons of misshapen giants, 
 I thanked my Master that he had not been minded to 
 fashion me in a shape resembling any of these. There 
 were other monstrosities, too, less suggestive of terrif- 
 fic force, things that tempted to sardonic laughter; 
 but I did not laugh. As I took Up my final position 
 under a tree bearing a large, white label marked with 
 the same number my Master had fastened on me 
 like a big medal I wondered which, if any, of these 
 silent, waiting monsters would run me closest per- 
 haps even conquer me! But no, I would not even 
 think of defeat. To regard it as a possibility was an 
 insult to my Master's skill, and his confidence in my 
 power. 
 
 I kept cool> Without a throb of the valves, in the 
 midst of the babel of voices talking rriany tongues. 
 Quietly, as if I had no feeling, I watched the busy 
 
 coming and going of owners and chauffeurs, pouring 
 
 105
 
 Champion 
 
 gurgling petrol out of tins, oiling their strange brood 
 from long-nosed cans, tightening up nuts and bolts, 
 and giving last anxious touches to their darlings. 
 
 The leaden gray of the first dawn was brightening 
 to pale silver, but still it was not full day; and now 
 and then the weirdness of the scene was heightened 
 singularly by a brilliant blue light that would sud- 
 denly break over the sky, dimming the ethereal hint 
 of coming sunrise, and throwing sharp, black shadows 
 on the pale faces of the eager crowd. I wondered if 
 this could be a queer kind of French electrical storm, 
 and was glad when I heard my Master say something 
 to Arnaud about the odd effect of magnesium-lights 
 used by the photographers who snap-shotted the scene 
 for publication in illustrated papers. 
 
 There were journalists, too, among the throng 
 journalists of all nations taking notes about the dif- 
 ferent cars for articles they were going to write or 
 telegraph. Two of these, with books and pencils in 
 their hands, stopped to have a look at me, as a great 
 many other people had, since we arrived under the 
 white-labeled tree. 
 
 "Well, I never could have imagined such a lot of 
 freak autos," said one to the other in English, but not 
 English-sounding English; "and this one takes the 
 cake. A regular demon! Just look at this wild and 
 
 weird fan thing on his nose." (I was wearing my 
 
 106
 
 Champion 
 
 aerial screw on this great morning, of course.) "What 
 the dickens can it be for?" And the rude fellow had 
 the impudence to tap me with his stylographic pen; 
 but he stopped when Hugh gave him a glance not 
 a frown but the sort of glance which made my Mas- 
 ter seem a king looking at a smirking clown. 
 
 That offended the creature, I suppose, for as he 
 turned away, pretending to take no further interest in 
 me, he said in quite a loud voice to his friend : "Every- 
 body's saying that Barr-Simons is certain to win with 
 a wonderful new car he's been making, and keeping 
 up his sleeve." 
 
 Barr-Simons indeed! I hated the man already be- 
 cause of what my Master had said of him; now I 
 hated him more than ever for his boasting for he 
 must have been boasting to these newspaper people; 
 and I determined that I would put out every ounce of 
 strength I possessed to pass him, if he and his car 
 came near us on the road. 
 
 At last, above all the clamor of voices and the min- 
 gling throb of many motors, there soared lightly the 
 clear notes of a bugle, and immediately after a body 
 of soldiers came marching briskly by in red trousers 
 and overcoats. It was their duty to form a living 
 hedge to keep back the spectators from the course, 
 and they took up positions in a far-reaching line, clear- 
 ing the road and pressing back without mercy the ex- 
 
 107
 
 Champion 
 
 cited spectators who surged round us, to wonder at 
 our appearance and speculate on our points. 
 
 Now the moment had come; the moment for which 
 I was born. I stood there stripped to my bones, so 
 to speak, not carrying a superfluous ounce of weight. 
 My Master, masked and goggled, was seated on me, 
 with his firm hand on the steering-wheel. He it was 
 who had given me my last oiling, because I had 
 squeaked a shrill warning when Arnaud had neglected 
 to fill a grease-cap in one of my wheel-bearings. All 
 was done. We were ready, Arnaud crouched at our 
 Master's feet, to lessen that terrible wind-pressure 
 which my propeller was made to overcome. I thought 
 that I could feel his heart thump> thump; and I knew 
 that fits of shivering passed over him, as a breeze 
 rustles the leaves of the poplar-tree. 
 
 Almost everybody else seemed to have some one 
 specially interested in him. Many of the drivers had 
 friends who ran up to shake them by the hand at the 
 last minute; owners whispered words of counsel into 
 the ears of chauffeurs who were to guide their in- 
 ventions to success or failure; dainty ladies, charm- 
 ingly dressed, early as was the hour, picked their way 
 among the machines to smile at husbands, brothers, 
 or lovers Who were to drive for the honor of some 
 famous manufacturing house. But not a soul had 
 
 my Master to wish him "bon voyage," or so it seemed 
 
 108
 
 Champion 
 
 at first. Just at the last, however, as the sun rose 
 above the horizon and sent a wave of gold over the 
 landscape, the sudden radiance lit up three familiar 
 faces, and I could have snorted with joy at sight of 
 two of them. 
 
 One was the beautiful face of Cecilia Murray, who 
 was with her father, but had arrived just too late to 
 speak with Hugh before the start. There she was, 
 however, true to her word, as we might have known 
 such a girl would be; and at some distance behind 
 her, too timid to come forward, was my Master's 
 pretty sister, Sheila Cameron. 
 
 She was with a lady, still quite young, but evidently 
 a good deal older than Sheila, and more a woman of 
 the world. Her face, which might have been very 
 handsome in girlhood, had rather a worn, disappointed 
 expression, and the searching light of early morning 
 showed that her color was not genuine, like the flower- 
 flush on Sheila's cheeks, or Lia Murray's. 
 
 Sheila was prettily, if plainly dressed, but her com- 
 panion was as wonderfully arrayed as any of the bril- 
 liant beings I had noticed in the streets of Paris. Her 
 blond hair was puffed out under a lace hat and ar- 
 ranged as elaborately as Mademoiselle Toinette's had 
 been, and she wore a good deal of jewelry; but I 
 was glad to see that, though Cecilia Murray had no 
 
 jewelry at all, her costume was quite as Parisian and 
 
 109
 
 Champion 
 
 elegant as that of Sheila's companion. It would be 
 difficult for any woman to surpass her, either in looks 
 or toilet, I reflected as proudly as if she were my 
 property, or my Master's. 
 
 The light on their faces and hair made them gleam 
 like gilded angels on a cupola, and my Master, who 
 had been hoping to see Lia, perhaps, caught sight of 
 her with delight, and of his sister with joyful surprise. 
 Whether he knew her friend or not, I could not tell, 
 but I have a good memory for anything that interests 
 me, and putting two and two together, I imagined 
 that Sheila must have come to France with Mrs. Barr- 
 Simons, the "Edith" my Master's father had once 
 wanted him to marry. 
 
 He lifted his cap, and both Lia and Sheila waved, 
 recognizing him in spite of his goggles. They would 
 have come nearer if they could at least it was evi- 
 dent that the Murrays tried, while probably Mrs. Barr- 
 Simons would not have cared to wish her husband's 
 rival, Hugh Cameron, good-speed; but it was too late, 
 for the cars were starting, and everybody who had a 
 seat in the grand stand made a rush in that direction. 
 
 My Master started me gently by turning on the 
 switch, and I was purring to myself, my fears of Ar- 
 naud's treachery at last forgotten; for what could he 
 do now, with Hugh at the helm, and every part of me 
 
 in splendid righting trim? 
 
 no
 
 Champion 
 
 I knew that I was working with magnificent rhythm, 
 and I tried to communicate with my Master by thrum- 
 ming out his favorite air and mine, "The March of the 
 Cameron Men"; but I'm afraid that he did not realize 
 what I was doing. Nevertheless, even if I were not 
 a musical genius, I was proud of myself, proud of 
 my terrific strength and velvet suppleness. Still, I 
 was not conceited, for it was the wonder of my Mas- 
 ter's art which impressed me the art which could 
 create a machine like myself, surpassing the wind in 
 swiftness, yet obedient to the lightest touch on throttle 
 or accelerator. 
 
 I began to advance slowly behind the five other cars 
 which were timed to start before me, and my wonder- 
 ful propeller was modestly folded up as I waited my 
 turn. The others, whose liberty to dash ahead without 
 delay I envied, were being sent off at five minutes' 
 intervals by the waving of a white flag in the hand of 
 the official starter. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came my turn. Now, I was 
 only three from the starting-point. 
 
 It was broad daylight, with clouds that raced across 
 the sky in rivalry to us; and in the grand stand that 
 rose tier above tier I could see rows of heads, with 
 eager eyes gazing at us through gleaming field-glasses. 
 In the central box, lined with crimson, stood the 
 
 President of the French Republic, whom I recognized 
 
 in
 
 Champion 
 
 from a large photograph Arnaud had pinned up in 
 our old workshop at home, and on his right hand 
 was a visiting monarch, a keen enthusiast for the 
 sport of motoring. There were other men in the 
 box behind these two great personages, but there was 
 one by their side on the President's left who was 
 more interesting to me than the two rulers. Lucky 
 for me that I had seen his portrait and grown familiar 
 with the features, otherwise I should have remained 
 in dull ignorance; for though they must have been 
 thinking intently of many things, neither my Master 
 nor Arnaud spoke a word. But I knew that it was 
 no other than Vandervoorst himself, the famous young 
 newspaper proprietor who was offering the cup. 
 
 Only one more car to go now, and then I I could 
 leap ahead for my Master's honor and my own glory. 
 Time after time a great "Who-o-o!" of wonder and 
 excitement has risen from the crowd as a monster 
 hurled itself forward, and with a buzzing as of ten 
 million bees vanished into a cloud of dust. 
 
 The flag waved, and away rushed the gray dragon 
 in front, his gearing giving forth a high, singing 
 scream as he sprang off down the course. 
 
 I moved up to the official with the flag, who stood 
 with his arm raised, and his cold eyes fixed, not on me, 
 but on a chronometer. 
 
 My piston-beats kept time with its ticking. I counted 
 
 112
 
 Champion 
 
 each second as it dropped into the past. Why did 
 my Master not unfold my propeller? I wondered. 
 How could he expect me to astonish the world as he 
 meant me to astonish it, if, like others, I had to fight 
 with the detaining hands of the air pressing me back, 
 refusing to give way save when my desperate strength 
 flung them off, and left them clawing hopelessly at 
 my sides as I ran between? Suddenly, however, he 
 pressed the little lever that actuated my aerial screw, 
 and bade me turn my superfluous energy to driving it, 
 as I would have begged him to do if I could have 
 spoken. Joyously I set the propeller revolving with 
 the speed which the wind boasted. I seemed to stand 
 in a tunnel-like vacuum, down which my wild impulse 
 was to rush with the breath of fire itself. 
 
 A ringing shout went up from the spectators in the 
 stands when they saw this astonishing new thing, an 
 automobile calling to its aid its arch enemy, the air. 
 The white flag fell like a great flower-petal. Now 
 now at last with life as the stake! 
 
 The faithful clutch expanded its rings within my 
 fly-wheel, and I accepted its embrace with rapture. So 
 swiftly, so vehemently did I dash down the tunnel- 
 vacuum, that in a piston-beat all the hubbub and the 
 wild cheers had died into silence, as if behind a shut 
 door, and we were far away on the long, white road.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 / Do What I Can. 
 
 As I drank the air which strove in vain to conquer 
 me, I was no longer a machine made by man; I was 
 a throbbing embodiment of man's genius, doing what 
 man could not do. I was matter informed by mind 
 the mind of my beloved Master. Existence was flight ; 
 and flight was an ecstasy made up of strength and 
 speed. 
 
 Before me I saw a moving pillar of dust, and knew 
 it hid the car sent off by the white flag five minutes be- 
 for me. Five full minutes' start had it had, but I 
 was gaining on it more and more with every second. 
 
 Suddenly the great white cloud flashed round a 
 curve between our road and another, a bend like that 
 of a hook or a woman's hairpin. A moment later, 
 and we were at the same place, I tearing on at my 
 maddest speed. To round the bend at that pace was 
 impossible. Instinctively I felt that centrifugal force 
 would hurl me from the track, that my wheels would 
 not bear the violent wrench of such a sudden change 
 in direction. I could not have stopped myself, even 
 to save my dear Master's life and honor. I believed 
 that the end had come; that instead of winning the 
 
 114
 
 Champion 
 
 race for him, in a second more I should have killed 
 him and Arnaud and dashed myself to pieces. 
 
 But I had reckoned without his experience and 
 presence of mind. I might have known that he would 
 not let me come to grief at the first or any other turn- 
 ing. We were close upon the terrible curve when the 
 clutch relaxed its iron grip on my fly-wheel, my mo- 
 tor's wild tendency to race was benignly checked by 
 the governor, ever on the alert to prevent me from 
 straining my mechanism; then, with a sudden twist of 
 the steering-wheel, we were safely round the bend 
 and flying on again at full speed, as if there had been 
 no check. 
 
 I purred my triumph at the exquisite piece of steer- 
 ing and judgment; and to the spectators who lined 
 this dangerous bit of road, no doubt with the morbid 
 hope of seeing some terrible accident, it must have 
 seemed the work of magic; for the slight slackening 
 of speed would hardly have been visible to an on- 
 looker. 
 
 A sigh of relief or was it disappointment? 
 whistled from five hundred throats as we shot past 
 a tribute wrung from humanity in spite of itself; and 
 I gloried anew in my Master. 
 
 Once round the corner we gained faster than ever 
 on the car in advance, which was making such a brave 
 fight that I was sorry to humiliate it; but I had my
 
 Champion 
 
 Master's fortune to think of, and this was no time for 
 sentiment, so I ran my best. 
 
 The lilting of our siren, worked by Arnaud, at- 
 tracted the attention of the chauffeur in front; for 
 he spoke to his master, and reluctantly the car swerved 
 a little, giving us the narrowest space possible in 
 which to pass, if pass we must. 
 
 I could hardly see through the dust-storm, and dust 
 mingled with the taste of my petrol ; but I plunged into 
 the white cloud and rushed through it, stones and 
 gravel dashing high in air and showering on my body. 
 I slipped past as a comet tears down a blue slope of sky, 
 leaving the planets seemingly motionless. Thus seemed 
 the car I had almost grazed but a moment ago; and 
 I could not have told its shape or recalled the features 
 of the two bent goblins who rode it, their chins pushed 
 upward by the wind of their own passage. 
 
 Now there was a long gap between me and the first 
 adversary I had conquered. Far ahead I could see 
 the next screened in its own blowing curtain of dust. 
 
 The course selected for this race was the most dif- 
 ficult it is possible to conceive. No experienced motor 
 could remember it without a shudder. To dream of 
 running over it at full speed was enough to demag- 
 netize your coil. The terrible white road plunged 
 down into valleys, and lassoed itself over mountains; 
 
 here and there it turned on itself like a boomerang, 
 
 116
 
 Champion 
 
 and most of its bridges were set at right angles. It 
 had every trick, every whim that a race-course could 
 have, and it offered a supreme test of construction and 
 material, as well as driving. 
 
 My nightmares now often repeat this road in cine- 
 matographic pictures, and I wake feeling as if the 
 petrol had congealed in my carbureter. After that 
 first, murderous hairpin bend, came a great white 
 shoulder of a hill, and I rushed at it like a mad thing. 
 Half-way up was the car that had flitted under the 
 flag ten minutes before me, and I passed it as if it 
 were a mile-stone. Two enemies whistled down the 
 wind, but the third was to prove more formidable. 
 
 I had noticed her for her strange wasplike shape, 
 before starting. Now I spied her far ahead, winding 
 gracefully, yet with sleuth-hound swiftness, down into 
 the green bowl of a valley. As I swooped after her, 
 almost leaving earth in the stride I took, I heard my 
 Master open his lips for the first time since we made 
 ready to start. 
 
 "Barr-Simons," he said, almost more as if he were 
 speaking to himself than to Arnaud. 
 
 I had thought until this instant that I could not de- 
 sire success more keenly than I did; but now, at the 
 sound of that name, a flame seemed to spring into 
 life in my heart, a flame which must devour me, if I 
 could not pass Barr-Simons and laugh him down* 
 
 M
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 / Find Out What Arnaud Meant. 
 
 With throttle wide open I raced down the hill. 
 
 Barr-Simons' car had dipped to the bottom of the 
 valley, wheeled, and begun to speed up the slope. 
 
 We saw it now from below ; and the driver guessed, 
 or I fancied he guessed, who had outdistanced the 
 two that had intervened between him and his great 
 rival. The set of his shoulders as he crouched over 
 the wheel seemed to say that his whole soul was bent 
 on defeating the only man he feared. 
 
 I gained on him unfailingly. The wind was his 
 enemy, but I had tamed it to be my friend. Soon we 
 were in his dust, and my siren imperiously called on 
 him to give way. For a moment we were separated 
 only by the length of our engines; the next we raced 
 radiator to radiator, the other car laboring ; then with 
 a leap I bounded ahead, and a second's space was the 
 space of ten yards between us. I had taken Barr- 
 Simons' road for my Master, and he was forging, 
 beaten, in our rear. 
 
 The song of the conqueror sang in my cylinders as 
 I saw before me a great crimson flag that bore the 
 
 word "Control." 
 
 118
 
 Champion 
 
 We slowed, we stopped; the center of a cheering 
 crowd. There were interested officials with stop- 
 watches and books. Questions were asked, entries 
 made, and in the midst of all up came Barr-Simons 
 on his car, as* much of his face as showed beneath the 
 goggles dead white under its mask of dust. 
 
 At the control Barr-Simons had a little army of 
 mechanics to do him service. Some poured pailsful 
 of water over his hot tires, others flung themselves on 
 the ground and peered under the car in search of loose 
 bolts, while several men busied themselves in handing 
 their master and his chauffeur sandwiches and cool 
 champagne. 
 
 Every one in the automobile world knew the great 
 Barr-Simons, and many clustered round his car, pay- 
 ing it and its driver compliments, wishing both suc- 
 cess for the following rounds of the race. 
 
 As for us, the moment that the millionaire maker 
 of motors appeared on the scene we were forgotten, 
 left to stand in isolation ; but it was a proud isolation, 
 and I was glad to feel that my Master, friendless, was 
 happier at this moment than Barr-Simons among all 
 his flatterers. For Arnaud, perhaps, it was a differ- 
 ent story ; but now that I believed him thwarted I had 
 few thoughts to spare for him. 
 
 He had no obsequious helpers when he jumped 
 
 down to look me over, and see that I was not ruptured 
 
 119
 
 Champion 
 
 or strained in any part. No waiting mechanics buzzed 
 round us like bees. After all, this was only the first 
 round, as I heard a sympathizer reminding Barr- 
 Simons. And if there were some, in their hearts, se- 
 cretly pleased because an unknown had dared to come 
 in before the famous man with his latest invention, 
 none dared to show it openly in his presence. Eyes 
 glanced at me furtively, more in dread than in satis- 
 faction, after the first impulsive cheering for us died 
 down at Barr-Simons' approach. 
 
 But it was time to go on. The flag dropped, and 
 we rolled through the control at a foot pace, watched 
 by the experts, numbers of whom ran with us to the 
 far end. What they thought when they saw my pro- 
 peller put in motion once more, whirling me on with 
 the velocity of a cannon-ball, I shall never know, for 
 I had left them as far behind as if they were in another 
 world before they had time to utter a cry of wonder; 
 but if I forgot them soon, I do not think they forgot 
 me as easily. 
 
 As if on wings of fire, I flew through reach after 
 reach of the changing country, which formed the im- 
 mense arena of this splendid conflict. But I had made 
 a resolve and kept it : Barr-Simons did not come near 
 to me again as I sped on; and when, at length, we 
 came in sight of the starting-point, where thousands of 
 spectators clustered thick and black as hiving bees,
 
 Champion 
 
 and stopped under the grand stand whence King and 
 President looked down from their crimson box, the 
 air was rent like a lace veil by the cheers which hailed 
 my Master victor. 
 
 We had made the round in less time by many min- 
 utes than any other competitor, and it increased my 
 pleasure rather than diminished it, that Barr-Simons 
 should be second, for that fact but seemed to empha- 
 size the rivalry in which we had beaten him, and make 
 it the more personal between us. 
 
 My petrol bubbled with joy and pride; and I knew 
 by the way my Master touched me that he was thank- 
 ing me for what I had done. I was glad that Cecilia 
 Murray was there to see, and Sheila ; and I knew that 
 Hugh also was glad. 
 
 The second round was like a bit of history which 
 repeats itself. What I had accomplished before I 
 accomplished again, with my Master's unflagging gui- 
 dance; but, except that, as I reached the spot where 
 I had passed Barr-Simons earlier in the race, I re- 
 called something I had been too preoccupied to notice 
 at the time; a glance of fury directed through his 
 goggles for an instant, and falling on Arnaud's crouch- 
 ing figure. Could it be, I asked myself now, that 
 he had expected something of Arnaud which Ar- 
 naud had not performed ? Had a promise been bought 
 from Arnaud, which he had failed, after all, to keep, 
 
 191
 
 d h a m p i o n 
 
 either through compunction, or cowardice, or deliber- 
 ate intention? Had I been right in thinking that a 
 plot to ruin me on the day of our drive from Dieppe 
 to Paris had been brought to nothing by Lia's desire 
 for a ride on me, and my Master's orders for Arnaud 
 to conduct a hired car? Had some new plan been 
 substituted in the place of the other, crushed by a girl ; 
 and had Arnaud remained true to his Master, after 
 all true, against all Barr-Simons' expectations? 
 
 These questions flashed through my cylinders, but 
 flashed out again unanswered, for there was little 
 time to think or argue. Action, action, was my one 
 duty, or I should lose the ground that I had gained. 
 So I threw thoughts behind me, as I threw the miles, 
 and appeared once more at the starting-point, this time 
 far in advance of any other car. 
 
 The experts were stupefied. From end to end of 
 the immense course the news seemed to have spread 
 that something extraordinary was happening; that it 
 might be a new era had come for the automobile, ush- 
 ered in by a stranger, an outsider, with a car of his 
 own invention a car whose importance could not be 
 ignored. Such speed as mine had never before been 
 recorded. I had shattered the world's record. But 
 the third round was still to come. 
 
 A chain made of human links stretched the length 
 of the course, or almost its length. Here and there 
 
 122
 
 Champion 
 
 spectators clustered thickly; elsewhere they grouped 
 in twos and threes, and midway, where there were no 
 steep gradients, no sharp turns to menace the racers, 
 the course was deserted for three or four miles. I 
 had noticed, however, in making the two first rounds 
 out of the three, that at a cross-road, far short of the 
 control with its crimson flag, a solitary spectator had 
 chosen to station himself. He had with him a small 
 brown automobile of perhaps twelve or fifteen horse- 
 power, and as he appeared to feel the liveliest interest 
 in the race, I had wondered dimly why he did not se- 
 lect a more interesting point of view. When we were 
 approaching him from afar off he would dart out of 
 the cross-road into the course, a field-glass at his eye, 
 studying me or my Master until we were nearly upon 
 him. Then he would spring out of the way, his lips 
 moving as if with excited exclamations. 
 
 I had not troubled myself much about this man and 
 his peculiarities when I made the first two rounds ; but, 
 having recalled that vicious look thrown by Barr-Sim- 
 ons at Arnaud, it suddenly occurred to me, as for the 
 third time the solitary spectator sprang into my path 
 with his raised field-glass, that his interest in me was, 
 perhaps, more keen than in other cars. Could it be 
 that it was a malign interest? That each time as he 
 jumped back out of danger, muttering, he shared Barr- 
 
 Simons' disappointment ? 
 
 123
 
 Champion 
 
 As I though of this, as I saw him standing there, 
 far ahead, a small black figure in the white line of the 
 road, fear chilled me for the first time that day. It 
 was as if, while I ran, a vast weight of cold metal had 
 fallen upon me, and I was obliged to bear the burden 
 as I kept up my full speed. 
 
 To my Master that small dark figure was evidently 
 of no importance. He kept me to the middle of the 
 road, as if the man did not exist. "One moment 
 more," I said to myself, "and we shall have passed this 
 place; I shall know then that my fear meant nothing. 
 Surely Arnaud will keep true, after all. Soon we shall 
 have won our full victory; soon they'll be cheering 
 themselves hoarse for us at the grand stand." 
 
 I rushed at the black figure, expecting it to leap 
 aside, but before I reached it I knew that something 
 terrible was happening. There came the thud of a 
 heavy blow; there was a broken cry which sounded 
 like horror and surprise, rather than pain. The firm 
 hand on my steering-wheel faltered; I swerved, and 
 though it was but for the briefest fraction of a second, 
 I knew that black treachery had been at work. I knew 
 that another hand guided me, the hand of a villain, 
 a murderer, perhaps, and that now it was bidding me 
 slow down. 
 
 So quickly had disaster fallen, that for a piston- 
 beat it was instinct rather than knowledge which told 
 
 1*4
 
 Champion 
 
 me that it had come. Then I saw, as well as heard 
 and felt. 
 
 My Master was drooping unconscious over the 
 steering-wheel. Arnaud was flinging away a sand- 
 bag with one hand, while with the other he directed 
 me, his jaw falling, his face sickly white. 
 
 There were only two thoughts left in the dark chasm 
 where treachery had plunged me from the bright pin- 
 nacle of triumph; that my Master was dead, and that 
 I must save his secret, at the same time avenging him 
 by killing Arnaud. As for myself, what did anything 
 matter now ? There was no world for me without my 
 Master ; and there was a wild joy in the determination 
 to end my life with his, to batter myself out of recog- 
 nition so that the plotters should not profit by their 
 crime. 
 
 Before the murderer's shaking hand could steady 
 me, I leaped off the road, and hurled myself at a dust- 
 white plane-tree growing alongside. I saw horror 
 blanch the face and glaze the eyes of the solitary 
 watcher; I heard Arnaud's cry of desperate fear, as 
 with all the strength and presence of mind he had left 
 he jammed on my brakes; then came a shattering 
 blow, which struck at my own life as well as his. 
 
 Next instant my whirling propeller was gashing the 
 gray bark from the tree-trunk, and my motor, the 
 very heart of me, seemed to crack. In my madness I 
 
 125
 
 Champion 
 
 rebounded from the tree, flung myself across the road, 
 and turned on my side, my wheels uselessly spinning 
 in the air. 
 
 Then, as if through a haze of blood, I saw my 
 Master's body lying in the dusty grass, motionless, 
 as it had lain by my side in blessed sleep many a time 
 in the happy past, when he had guarded me by night. 
 Now he could guard me no more. I had failed to 
 save him, though I would have given my life a hun- 
 dred times over for his. All I could do I had done, for 
 I felt broken to pieces, ended forever; and no prying 
 eye could tell, I hoped, how he had made me. As for 
 Arnaud, if I had not killed him, I must have come 
 near it, for I had thrown him far away, out of my 
 sight. I was glad of that, at least. My engine stopped, 
 and I believed that my life was stopping, too. 
 
 126
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 / Suffer All Things. 
 
 There was an interval of blankness, like being swal- 
 lowed up in a wave or a thick cloud of dust. Then 
 came a dull consciousness of continued existence, and 
 I heard Arnaud's voice. 
 
 He was alive, then! My vengeance had failed. 
 
 Soon, in a blurred way, I saw him a sorry figure, 
 bending limply over me, looking half his size as he 
 humped his thin shoulders and nursed a wounded arm. 
 
 His goggles and cap were off, and the red graze on 
 the side of his face where the skin had been scraped 
 away, the trickle of blood that ran over his eyes, and 
 the sick look of pain that distorted his mean features, 
 brought me some small consolation. 
 
 My Master's body lay as I had seen it at first; but 
 the man who had watched from the cross-way was 
 busy with a couple of others who came I knew not 
 whence in righting me on the road. At the same mo- 
 ment I heard the whir of an approaching motor, and 
 immediately I caught sight of Barr-Simons in his car. 
 He tore past us, unheeding, or so it might have seemed 
 to one uninitiated; but I read the meaning of his brief 
 
 glance, his bitten lip, and the sigh that heaved his 
 
 127
 
 Champion 
 
 shoulders. Barr-Simons was rushing on to snatch 
 the victory he had stolen from my Master, and he 
 would not pause for a second, lest he should lose the 
 full glory of success. He had been far behind us, but 
 there was nothing to prevent him from coming in first 
 now. 
 
 How I hated him ! How I wished that I could have 
 put him in my Master's place. It would be something 
 to live for if I might punish him yet. 
 
 The men who had set to work at righting me did 
 not take long about their task. They were dressed 
 like French peasants, but they had a lifting- jack and 
 ropes, which I guessed had been taken from the car 
 in the cross-road; and they had such skill that it 
 would have been folly to suppose them amateurs. 
 They worked quickly and silently, only pausing now 
 and then to see if another racer were in sight; but 
 before the next appeared they had finished and hustled 
 most of their implements away. When the motor that 
 followed Barr-Simons had passed, there was nothing 
 to see save a little group of peasants collected round 
 a battered car that had come to grief and spilt its pas- 
 sengers. 
 
 The man who had watched manifested the greatest 
 interest in me and the extent of my injuries; but 
 when Arnaud limped to the still form of my Master 
 and bent over it, half -fascinated, half-frightened, the 
 
 128
 
 Champion 
 
 that meant some new emotion, like surprise or fear, 
 the crying abruptly ceased. 
 
 "Let me go!" I heard her gasp. "I want to die 
 oh, I want to die." 
 
 Some one else had come, then some one who was 
 in her way. 
 
 "Why should a girl like you want to die?" asked a 
 man's voice heavily. And my interest grew, for 
 I could not be mistaken it was the voice of the man 
 who had come to visit Barr-Simons. 
 
 "Because I am miserable," answered the woman. 
 
 "Because there's nothing else left to do. Let go my 
 arm. If it hadn't been for you it would have been 
 all over now." 
 
 "It wouldn't," said the man gloomily. "Your agony 
 would be just beginning. You would be struggling 
 there in the river." 
 
 So a river ran under the window at the back of the 
 garage, and it was a lonely spot, or people would not 
 choose it to come and drown themselves. 
 
 "Don't talk of the agony; that only makes every- 
 thing so much worse; for sooner or later I must do 
 it," wailed the woman. "And I am a coward. You 
 don't know what trouble like mine is, or you would un- 
 derstand." 
 
 "Maybe not," said the man; "but I do know that 
 
 trouble like mine is more than I can bear; and since 
 
 161
 
 Champion 
 
 you can't understand, I'll tell you this: when I've done 
 something else which I'm waiting here to do, my idea 
 is to end all, as you were just going to end it." 
 
 "How strange how terrible!" cried the girl, the 
 dulness gone out of her voice, which was singularly 
 sweet and flutelike, "that you that I should both be 
 at this spot at the same time, for the the same er- 
 rand! But since you tell me this, why did you stop 
 me?" 
 
 "I don't know," said the man ; "a kind of instinct, I 
 suppose, that outlasts most things in one's nature : the 
 instinct to protect a woman." 
 
 "You have done me no kindness," said the girl, "and 
 yet I'm glad we've met, glad we've talked. At such 
 a dark moment, when there's nothing to do but end 
 life, there's a dim kind of comfort in having human 
 sympathy at least, if you're a coward like me." 
 
 "I'm a coward, too," the man answered, "but it isn't 
 death I'm afraid of; it's life." 
 
 "I'm afraid of both. But it's doing me good to tell 
 you. Does it help you to speak like this to me?" 
 
 "Yes. I don't know why, but it does. The best 
 thing I ever had in my past life was a sister. She 
 was about your age when she died twenty." 
 
 "I'm twenty-four. How extraordinary we should 
 be telling each other such things ! Fifteen minutes ago 
 
 we'd never seen each other, and in fifteen minutes 
 
 162
 
 Champion 
 
 more, perhaps, we'll be where we can never see any- 
 thing earthly again. Your being English, and my be- 
 ing English both making up our minds to die in this 
 forlorn place, far from home, seems more than a coin- 
 cidence. It is as if there were some Fate in it." 
 
 "There's Fate in everything, according to my idea," 
 said the man. "My Fate has been an evil one, dogging 
 my steps always, for years. Queer, if I should have 
 something to thank the brute for, just at the last!" 
 
 "For me, you mean?" 
 
 "Yes. For letting the condemned criminal warm 
 his hands for a minute before his execution." 
 
 "What a curious, frank mood it puts you in to be 
 about to die to have to come to the end of all things, 
 and be standing on the edge of the world, looking over 
 doesn't it?" 
 
 "Looking over into what?" 
 
 "Oh, I daren't think. I used to be quite religious, 
 once." 
 
 "I'd swear you're not a bad girl now." 
 
 "Perhaps not so very bad. I've not done any of 
 the things that the world absolutely refuses to forgive 
 a woman in, anyhow. But I've taken money that 
 didn't belong to me." 
 
 "So have I," said the man, and laughed, a queer, 
 bitter laugh. "This grows interesting, doesn't it? A 
 fellow-feeling ought to make us wondrous kind." 
 
 163
 
 Champion 
 
 "It has it docs. Of course you didn't steal in any 
 vulgar, common way, and neither did I. I should hate, 
 somehow, for you to think that. I held a little money 
 in trust for my younger sister, who's living with rela- 
 tives in England, and and I took it to pay for les- 
 sons in singing from a teacher who is rather celebrated 
 but I hate her now. In a way, it's to her I owe my 
 ruin. That's a long story, though; and you and I 
 haven't time in this world for long stories, have we ?" 
 
 "I don't know," said the man. "I feel as if I should 
 like to hear yours. I'm interested in you, and every- 
 thing about you. Don't go and misunderstand me 
 when I say that. I'm a bad man, but I'm not danger- 
 ous to you." 
 
 "Oh, don't you suppose I was sure of you, by in- 
 stinct? Otherwise would I have talked to you as I 
 have ? Why, when you weren't thinking what I meant 
 to do, I could have jumped into the water and escaped 
 from you as well as from everything else in life, if I'd 
 mistrusted the kind of man you were." 
 
 "If you had, I should have jumped in after you." 
 
 "To die with me?" 
 
 "No, to save you. I don't know why, as I said be- 
 fore. A man's instinct again. Shall I tell you what 
 I did? I forged a check. But that isn't why I made 
 up my mind that the end must come to-night." 
 
 "There are more things?" 
 
 164
 
 Champion 
 
 "Several more. But they would make a long story, 
 too, a good deal longer, and a good deal darker than 
 yours, I expect." 
 
 "I should like to hear it." 
 
 "Would you? As much as I would yours? Well, 
 perhaps we shall meet again beyond the river, and 
 tell each other things somewhere. Not that there'd 
 be much remembering days of joy when misery is at 
 hand." 
 
 "Oh, you read Dante?" 
 
 "I used to. Poor Paolo and Francesca!" 
 
 "Another bond in common. I studied the role of 
 Francesca for an opera Madame my teacher had 
 written. She used to say I would make a success in 
 it. Cruel, cruel ! Oh, come, let us die, and get it all 
 over. Will you help me to die friend?" 
 
 "No!" he exclaimed. "I can't. I can't do that. 
 And I can't stand by and see you do it. I'll tell you 
 what I will do. I'll go first. Perhaps when you've 
 seen me go, you'll feel that rather than follow by the 
 same dark, cold way, you'll wait a bit, and try to find 
 something in life worth living on for, after all." 
 
 "Oh," she cried, her voice breaking into sobs again. 
 "You mustn't you mustn't! I couldn't see it I 
 couldn't bear it. It would drive me mad. Don't make 
 me die mad." 
 
 "What is to be done, then?" he asked. 
 
 165
 
 Champion 
 
 "I don't know. We might part, and and neither 
 of us see the other's end." 
 
 "Would you prefer that?" 
 
 "It seems horribly desolate now, after making 
 your friendship and having your sympathy." 
 
 "To me the same. Yet what else is there for us, 
 since you won't let me go first? You must leave me 
 here." 
 
 "No, if one is to be left, it must be I. There's no 
 other place where I where it can happen so easily. 
 This towing-path isn't far from the house where I was 
 living." 
 
 "I can't leave you here, unless you're going to fol- 
 low me into the water for there's something I'm 
 bound to do at this place before I say good-by to the 
 world." 
 
 "Something you're bound to do ?" 
 
 "A revenge I have to take on a worse villain than I 
 am. I'd better not tell you more." 
 
 "Yes, tell me." 
 
 "I'm going to set fire to this garage." 
 
 "What garage?" 
 
 "This little, new, white-plastered building whose 
 wall you're leaning against. I've waited here for 
 hours till it should be so late that there'd be no one 
 about to give the alarm and save the place. I want it 
 
 and all that's in it burnt to the ground. There! 
 
 166
 
 Champion 
 
 I've frightened you, haven't I? You don't wish me 
 to die with you now." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. You must have some strong 
 reason. You can't be a bad-hearted man, or even a 
 cold-hearted one, or you'd have looked on and let me 
 drown." 
 
 "I used not to be bad-hearted. And I've been find- 
 ing out in these last few minutes that my heart hasn't 
 turned to stone yet, as I thought it had. You've made 
 me remember that I'm young still. You've made me 
 remember some of the things in life I'm leaving." 
 
 "Yes, we're both young. The pity of it the pity 
 of it! We might have been so happy. We had the 
 right to be happy." 
 
 "A brutal, cruel world has robbed us of our rights. 
 Heavens, I wish we could get even with it! I wish 
 we could tear from it a little of all it owes us, as hu- 
 man beings who didn't ask to be born." 
 
 "We won't be spiting the world much in dying. We 
 shall be forgotten. And all the people who are worse, 
 and luckier than we are, will go on being happy." 
 
 "You make me want to live if only there were a 
 way. But Jove ! I've thought of a way !" 
 
 "I'm glad for you; though it leaves me alone." 
 
 "It doesn't. It carries you along the same road 
 if you'll come. We'll travel together en automobile." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 167
 
 Champion 
 
 "I mean that you and I it sounds rather crude, but 
 you said yourself that Fate had brought us together 
 on this spot, for the same purpose, at the same hour ; a 
 lonely, desperate man, a lonely, desperate woman, 
 from the same country, stranded in a foreign land." 
 
 "Yes, I said that. I say it again, because it seems 
 wonderful." 
 
 "Well, then, if we were brought together, why 
 shouldn't we go on together?" 
 
 "I I don't " 
 
 "Why shouldn't we be married and begin a career 
 which would get us even with the world that's downed 
 us so far? You're not married already, by bad luck, 
 are you?" 
 
 "No, I'm not married." 
 
 "I thought not; you have the air of a girl. I've 
 never been enough in love with any woman, since I 
 was out of my teens, to ask her to marry me; but I 
 have an idea that, if you'll give me the chance, I shall 
 fall all the way in love with you. We'd never seen 
 each other an hour ago; but most of the people who 
 marry after a year or two of being engaged, can't 
 say more at best than that they were brought together 
 by Fate meant for each other can they?" 
 
 "There is no more than that; there can't be." 
 
 "Well, then, let's throw in our lots together for 
 
 life, not death. Already I feel as if having you by my 
 
 168
 
 Champion 
 
 side would give me the nerve to dare anything. We 
 might have some good adventures, you and I." 
 
 "Have you a plan?" 
 
 "Yes, I have. It jumped into my head, full grown, 
 and dressed from head to foot armored to fight the 
 world. What do you say? You don't know me very 
 well; but maybe you don't hate me so much that life 
 with me would be worse than death choking out 
 your last breath in this black river?" 
 
 "Oh, I can't I can't think of death as I did. You 
 seem to have half-opened a door, and shown me light." 
 
 "I'll open it wide. Will you go through into the 
 light with me ?" 
 
 "Yes ! There you have my answer, for good or ill. 
 Yes." 
 
 "The light won't be a sweet, soft light, like that you 
 see in pictures, shining on the heads of pious maidens 
 who're saying their prayers. It may be a lurid kind of 
 light. And there won't be any prayers. There'll be 
 reprisals. Whatever happens we may get some good 
 days ; and other people shall pay for them. Does that 
 put you off?" 
 
 "No!" cried the girl. "I'm like you. The world 
 owes me a lot. I'd love to make it pay. And I'd love 
 to have adventures. I've dreamed of having them 
 but I never have yet except hateful ones. Do you 
 
 know, I like your face?" 
 
 169
 
 Champion 
 
 "So do I yours. I suppose you've heard that it's 
 a pretty one?" 
 
 "People have told me so. But you can hardly see 
 it in this faint light of the stars." 
 
 "Heaven send they're lucky stars ! And my eyes are 
 good, if my conscience isn't." 
 
 "Let's forget our consciences and be happy. I've 
 almost forgotten what it feels like to be happy." 
 
 "So had I till a few minutes ago. I'll tell you the 
 plan that came to me, and you can judge whether it's 
 the sort you could be happy on." 
 
 "I think I could be happy on any that would save 
 me from that terrible, black water that runs so fast. 
 But tell me the plan no, tell me first your life story, 
 and I'll tell you mine. Let's save the best part for the 
 last. And the future must be best, for us both, since 
 the past has been so bad." 
 
 "Well I said mine was a long story; but after all 
 it mayn't be long enough to bore you, since you've 
 agreed to take me on, for better, for worse. My peo- 
 ple were gentlefolk in a small way. I had a good 
 education, and I was always fond of books. I used to 
 be praised for it but maybe they weren't always the 
 best sort of books. My father was a solicitor. I was 
 to have gone into partnership with him, and I fell in 
 with a racing set, and he got so disgusted that he 
 chucked me, and said I could go shift for myself. A 
 
 170
 
 Champion 
 
 man I knew got me a place in Barr-Simons' factory 
 here in France. I was secretary to the manager, and 
 my services were valuable, because I always liked lan- 
 guages, and had a little German as well as a good 
 knowledge of French and Italian enough Spanish, 
 too, to write a fair letter. Presently I was transferred 
 to England, and became secretary to Barr-Simons him- 
 self, in his London office. Things were going prosper- 
 ously with me, when I got the fever again the old 
 fever for gambling. I suppose it's in my blood. I 
 was unlucky when I ought to have been lucky, and 
 tried to right myself on the Stock Exchange. I bor- 
 rowed, and couldn't pay back. I asked for an advance 
 of salary, and was refused a second one. Then well, 
 Barr-Simons' handwriting's so fatally easy to copy; 
 and specimens of it were under my eyes all day. I 
 was tempted and I didn't resist. I was found out 
 that was only a question of time when luck per- 
 sistently turned its back on me. Barr-Simons could 
 have sent me to prison for five years, if he'd liked. 
 He didn't. Instead he made me an offer." 
 
 "That was good of him," said the girl. 
 
 "Wait. He wanted my help in ruining a rival the 
 sort of help that a mouse might give a lion, but im- 
 portant all the same; impossible for him to work his 
 game without it. I was to be spared if I did what he 
 
 suggested, and when it was done, on the day of the 
 
 171
 
 Champion 
 
 Vandervoorst Cup Race, I was to be paid. The sum 
 wasn't named, and I was not in a position to bar- 
 gain; but I was given to understand that it would be 
 enough to start me in life again, free of worry, free 
 of debt. As a guarantee of good faith he made a 
 show of tearing up and burning a check, which he 
 said was the check. I was a fool not to guess it was 
 a trick. Now, he not only refuses to pay me a penny 
 for my services to-day, on the plea that it would en- 
 courage me to blackmail him, but he denies that I per- 
 formed any service for him, dares me to tell any story 
 I like, tells me that he's kept the check, and threatens 
 prison if I try to assert my claims." 
 
 "What a wretch! I wish you hadn't helped him to 
 ruin the other man." 
 
 "He would have been ruined, anyway. I couldn't 
 have saved him by staying out of the game. But now 
 I can punish Barr-Simons for his treachery to me, 
 and his treachery of Cameron at the same time." 
 
 "Cameron is the name of the other man?" 
 
 "Yes. Cameron's chauffeur, bribed by Barr-Simons 
 through a music-hall singer I had to do some bargain- 
 ing with, nearly killed his Master to-day, and pre- 
 vented his car from winning the race. It will pass as 
 an accident. The chauffeur and I were the only ones 
 who saw what really happened. This little garage 
 
 Barr-Simons ordered to be built when it was decided 
 
 172
 
 Champion 
 
 that the race should be run here. In it is his own car, 
 which won, and Cameron's car, which ought to have 
 won. Cameron's car is badly smashed. It stands in 
 an outer room, and his is in another, which I believe 
 so Barr-Simons' chauffeur's been saying is locked 
 with a time-lock, of which the Master alone knows the 
 combination. It's like his suspicious nature to do a 
 thing like that. You see he believes everybody else 
 capable of doing what he is ready to do himself. My 
 first idea to-night, as I told you, was to set fire to 
 the garage before I died, and thus destroy Barr- 
 Simons' car, and his chance of finding out the secrets 
 of Cameron's invention, which he has been trying to 
 get hold of for a long time. Now, I have a different 
 idea an idea out of which you and I, as partners, 
 might squeeze a living, and make up for the past." 
 
 "Perhaps, though, when you hear all about me, you 
 won't want me for the kind of partnership you spoke 
 of. Men hate women, they say, who do the things 
 they forgive each other. I've been a governess here 
 the usual English 'Mees' for two detestable, 
 spoiled children, with a disagreeable, purse-proud 
 mother. She was horrid to me treated me as if I 
 were a servant and it was all I could do to manage 
 those singing lessons for which I've paid so dearly, 
 three times a week, missing my dinner to get them, 
 because no other hour could be spared. My one 
 
 173
 
 Champion 
 
 thought was to succeed with my singing, and escape 
 from slavery. I shouldn't have come to this dull hole 
 to teach for a mere pittance, if I hadn't known that 
 a great retired prima donna lived here, and gave les- 
 sons to a few favored pupils. Because that woman 
 the children's mother was so hateful, I was quite 
 pleased when her husband tried to flirt with me a lit- 
 tle. It was my revenge. That wasn't nice of me but 
 you can't think what waspish ways she had! Mon- 
 sieur Beringer, the husband, pretended to be interested 
 in my music, and one day when his wife had been par- 
 ticularly loathsome, he told me that, if some other 
 authority besides my teacher in whom he didn't seem 
 to believe pronounced me talented enough for grand 
 or even light opera, he would use his influence to give 
 me a start. Also he would finance me until I should 
 have made my success. 
 
 "Soon after he told me that Signor Carvona, the 
 celebrated tenor, was coming to sing in opera at the 
 time when the motor-race 'would bring thousands 
 of people to the town. He said he knew Signor Car- 
 vona, and would ask him to try my voice. To-day 
 it was tried, and the great singer gave me no hope 
 whatever. My teacher had deceived me. My voice 
 was nothing only a pretty little drawing-room voice, 
 he called it. And somehow Madame Beringer found 
 out that her husband had been flirting and making me 
 
 174
 
 Champion 
 
 promises of what he would do for me. I think her 
 maid, a cat of a woman, must have overheard and re- 
 peated a conversation. Madame insulted me and 
 turned me out of her house at an hour's notice, this 
 evening, and Monsieur Beringer was too cowardly 
 to defend me. He tried to save himself by swearing 
 I had worked upon his compassion. Do you wonder 
 I wanted to die? What was there left for me, till 
 you came and gave me hope? My sister's money 
 spent; no way of getting it back; myself unjustly 
 disgraced ; no chance of the career I'd counted on !" 
 
 "Well, you shall have your career," said the man. 
 
 "You don't despise me?" 
 
 "/ despise you? Why, you're white against black, 
 compared to me. And now you shall hear my plan." 
 
 175
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 / Suffer a Great Change. 
 
 So absorbed had I been in the life-stories of these 
 two persons whom I had never seen, that for a little 
 while I had forgotten my own despair in pitying theirs. 
 But when the man had unfolded to his companion the 
 idea which was to make their fortune, I saw that 
 henceforth their stories and mine were likely to be 
 written on the same pages in the book of Fate. 
 
 "I said," he went on, "that you and I might take 
 the trail together en automobile. There, behind that 
 wall, our car is waiting for us." 
 
 "Mr. Barr-Simons' car?" the girl laughed, a little 
 shamefully, as she questioned him. 
 
 "No. We can't get that. I've no dynamite to blow 
 his time-lock to pieces. We'll have to be satisfied with 
 the lame duck, but it's a very good duck. It may 
 turn out for us as good as the goose that laid golden 
 eggs." 
 
 "You mean we're to take it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "But you said it was broken." 
 
 "So it is. But it can go. There's no car made that 
 
 I can't drive. I shall be able to get this one to go 
 
 176
 
 C Ira m p I o n 
 
 shed grateful tears of petrol on her, if I hadn't been 
 afraid of spoiling her dress. She knew that I was no 
 senseless mass of twisted metal and splintered wood. 
 She honored and pitied me at the same time, and gave 
 me credit for the anguish I was suffering. "If only 
 it's fared better with the owner, I shall be thankful," 
 she went on. "But I'm afraid that friend of Miss 
 Cameron's, whoever he is, may be only trying to en- 
 courage her. I'm sick at heart about Mr. Cameron, 
 and for him, aren't you?" 
 
 "Well, he was a very fine fellow, but we've only 
 known him three days," said Mr. Murray. 
 
 "Don't say 'was,' as if he had ceased to be!" ex- 
 claimed the girl. "How horrid of you, Dad. I don't 
 suppose we'll ever see anything of him after this, 
 whatever whatever happens to him, for we have to 
 take our tour, and he'll be going back to England 
 as soon as he's well enough. By the time we get 
 there, months from now, of course he'll have forgot- 
 ten us. But all the same, I feel as if I knew him bet- 
 ter than lots of other men who've been calling on me 
 twice a week since I was a little girl. In spite of what 
 Miss Cameron's friend says about the chauffeur, I 
 just feel, through and through, that the accident did 
 happen through foul play of some kind. I'd give any- 
 thing to find out what it was, and prove it." 
 
 "When you once make up your mind a thing's so, 
 
 145
 
 Champion 
 
 not all the king's horses nor the king's men can make 
 you change your idea," said Mr. Murray. 
 
 "Nor all the king's automobiles, either," retorted 
 Lia defiantly. "And talking of automobiles, I wish 
 I felt as easy in my mind as his sister seems to do 
 about letting Mr. Cameron's car go into that man's 
 garage till he's well enough to take it back himself. 
 Suppose he's in the plot?" 
 
 "Pooh!" said Mr. Murray. "You're daft about 
 that 'plot,' girlie. The gentleman's a friend of the 
 family. Didn't you hear him call Mr. Cameron 
 'Hugh'?" 
 
 "Ye-es, but that might have been his wily way 
 of getting round the sister. Even she seemed to hesi- 
 tate at first what to do. I suppose we couldn't offer 
 to take charge of the car, could we? Say Mr. Camer- 
 on had wanted us to do it in case anything happened. 
 I believe he would truly want it, you know, Dad, for 
 he trusted us." 
 
 "We couldn't possibly," said Mr. Murray, looking 
 startled, as if he were afraid that his wilful daughter 
 would commit him to some course of action before 
 he had time to save himself. "We might as well take 
 charge of an elephant. What could we do with the 
 thing?" 
 
 "Oh, hire a garage, and wait around till Mr. Cam- 
 eron could give orders." 
 
 146
 
 Champion 
 
 "Well, I like letting you have your own way, little 
 girl," said Mr. Murray, "but I must draw the line 
 somewhere, and I guess this is the right place. Mr. 
 Cameron's sister and her intimate friends are the 
 only people who've got a voice in the disposal of 
 his property, and I'm not going to interfere or let 
 my daughter interfere, even to please you, Lia." 
 
 "Oh, dear, I suppose we can't, then," sighed the girl, 
 looking ready to cry. "But I'm just sick about it all. 
 And I feel as if we were standing by watching, with- 
 out raising a finger, while wicked wretches killed Mr. 
 Cameron and smashed his automobile, and buried 
 them both under the leaves when nobody knew ex- 
 cept us. I shall dream it was like that hundreds of 
 times in the nights to come, I know." 
 
 "You'll forget all about it when we're sight-see- 
 ing again," said Mr. Murray. 
 
 "No, I sha'n't. I'll never forget this day. And if 
 I find out I'm right I'll never forgive myself either 
 for not doing something I don't know exactly what. 
 Anyhow, let us go now to the hospital, wherever it 
 is, and learn something for ourselves about Mr. Cam- 
 eron. His sister's so absorbed in what Mr. Vander- 
 voorst is saying she doesn't remember that we exist." 
 
 "All right, come along," answered Mr. Murray, 
 showing by his alacrity that he was glad to get away 
 from the spot at any price. 
 
 147
 
 C h a m p i o fl 
 
 "Just one moment!" exclaimed Lia. She took a 
 step and laid her hand gently on my broken body. 
 "Good-by," she said, "Good-by." Only that one 
 word, murmured twice over, below her breath. But 
 it meant as much as a whole long sentence to me ; and 
 her soft tone and soft touch were like balm poured 
 upon my wounds. 
 
 Fate was against me, preventing her from giving 
 the help she longed to give ; but her sweetness and her 
 wish to serve me and my Master made for me all the 
 difference between the cold despair of utter abandon- 
 ment and the warmth of sympathy. I felt somehow 
 redeemed from humiliation, my self-respect, at least, 
 saved from the disaster of the day. 
 
 If only she had known that Miss Cameron's friend 
 was Barr-Simons she might have continued to fight 
 for me against her father's opposition, and have con- 
 quered it in the end. But, even if he had been pointed 
 out to her by neighbors in the grand stand during the 
 race when he flashed by in his car, goggled and masked, 
 she could not recognize him now from any of the 
 other competitors; and neither Sheila nor Mr. Van- 
 dervoorst had mentioned his name in her hearing. 
 There was no motive to impel her to insist further, 
 and there was no resentment, nothing but gratitude 
 for her kind intention, in the cold tunnels of my cyl- 
 inders as she let her father draw her away. 
 
 148
 
 Champion 
 
 Often afterward I recalled her grieved backward 
 glance, felt again the gentle pressure of her loyal 
 little hand, and heard the echo of that "Good-by." 
 
 Vandervoorst was still talking to Sheila of her 
 brother not discouragingly, yet not cheerfully 
 when Barr-Simons moved away and gave directions 
 that I should be at once towed to his garage. All 
 hope of a rescue was over; and, though one other 
 hope was left to me that I was too broken to give 
 up my Master's secrets even that was very faint. I 
 felt life strong within me yet, as a sullen weight drawn 
 by a sullen beast I was dragged toward that realm 
 where Barr-Simons' power reigned supreme. 
 
 149
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 / See Once More the Man of the Cross-road. 
 
 When the gates of the garage had shut upon me, 
 the awful sense of isolation, of helplessness, was even 
 worse than I had thought, and once more I felt as if 
 my cylinders must crack with my despair. It would 
 be useless now for any cam to try and actuate my 
 valves again. 
 
 But I had had time for a dozen changes of mood 
 before the silence of the dark garage in which I'd 
 been locked up and deserted was broken by the sound 
 of a key turning. Then the door opened, and I heard 
 a man's footsteps. Some one was moving about; 
 some one found and switched on the electric light, 
 flooding the place with a cruel, white glare. It was 
 Barr-Simons, and he had changed into evening dress, 
 with which he wore a decoration in his buttonhole. 
 Instantly I guessed that he had stopped for a stealthy 
 look at me on his way to the grand dinner of which I 
 had heard my poor Master speak a dinner given in 
 honor of the victors in the race. I guessed, too, at 
 the impatience he must have been feeling, and how he 
 must have seized the first chance of tearing from me 
 such secrets as I might be powerless to conceal, and 
 
 150
 
 IT WAS BARR-SIMONS. 
 
 (P. ISO.)
 
 Champion 
 
 note them for his own guidance, for use before Hugh 
 Cameron could recover from his wounds and defend 
 the offspring of his brain. 
 
 He locked the door again and hurried to me, like a 
 hungry wolf that scents a meal. "Now for you, my 
 beauty!" he muttered. "You pretty nearly did for 
 yourself, but not quite. It's your master who suf- 
 fered most, after all. By Jove! one would almost 
 think you banged your head into that tree on purpose 
 to spite me." 
 
 So that was in his mind! I only wished he knew 
 the truth, and that the minute he learned it I could 
 explode and tear him into atoms. His addressing 
 himself to me, as if acknowledging the fact that I was 
 sentient, seemed an added insult instead of a valued 
 compliment, as it did from my poor Master, or Lia 
 Murray. But if I had had the power to destroy him 
 I would have yielded it for the privilege of hearing 
 from his lips even if the news came with a sneer 
 the truth about Hugh ; whether he were living or dead, 
 and whether, if he lived, he were like to recover and 
 win back his stolen honors. 
 
 "You didn't quite succeed, did you?" he went on. 
 "That queer screw of yours I'm afraid you've done 
 me out of, you brute the very thing I wanted to get 
 at, of all others the thing I'd have given a cool hun- 
 dred thousand to have in my hands, free of patent
 
 Champion 
 
 rights ! But I shall be able to guess at it a bit, maybe, 
 from the mangled remains, and I shall measure and 
 weigh you. I shall find out how Cameron balanced 
 his weights to combine so much strength with so much 
 lightness. I shall poke into the secret of your wheels 
 for all it's worth, and take it for my own. I shall 
 know everything there is to know about your ma- 
 terials : how the fellow made your steels and bronzes. 
 I'll have that air-cooling contrivance that I've been 
 fussing over with such disappointing results for a 
 whole wasted year. And what with all you give me, 
 and the help I'll buy from that little sneak, Arnaud, 
 you'll be at my mercy. Not a thought of your Mas- 
 ter's that I sha'n't be able to pass off as my own for 
 my next machine, thanks to pluck and business in- 
 stincts." 
 
 "Business instincts, indeed!" I tried to hiss out 
 through a small leak whence my petrol was dripping. 
 "Business instinct spells bribery and murder with 
 you; just another word for the same thing. Oh, if 
 only my Master gets well, he may beat you yet. Oh, 
 if only my Master gets well ! It seems to me that any 
 one who sees your two faces would take his word 
 against yours." 
 
 Unfortunately, he did not understand, or he might 
 have lost that temper of his, said to be so execrable, 
 and have battered me into worse condition, out of re- 
 
 152
 
 Champion 
 
 venge. He was just about to settle down to the enjoy- 
 ment of such superficial examination as might be made 
 by a man dressed to go out to a grand dinrier, when 
 there came a knock at the door. 
 
 He muttered a word I should not have liked Lia 
 to hear, and stood hesitating whether to answer or 
 not. But the knock came again, this time accompanied 
 by a voice which struck me as being familiar. For an 
 instant I could not place it in my memory, though 
 I knew I had heard it lately; but when Barr-Simons 
 unwillingly decided to open the door, with the first 
 ray of white light that plucked the newcomer's face 
 out of shadow I recognized it. 
 
 The man of the cross-road knew that Barf-Simons 
 was here with me, and had come to pay him a visit. 
 I had seen him before, only in his motor-mask and 
 goggles; but, noticing him particularly as I had in the 
 two first rounds of the race, I had fixed iri my being 
 the one feature I was able to see clearly. That fea- 
 ture was the chin, and it was a peculiar one, cleft 
 in the middle with a deep dent. Also, I had had the 
 impression of a reddish mustache. 
 
 Now I saw the whole face, but the chin was still 
 the most remarkable part of it. 
 
 Compared to Barr-Simons, the man was a little 
 man, but he was actually of about the average height, 
 perhaps looking smaller because he Was thiri, so thin 
 
 153
 
 Champion 
 
 as to suggest that he might lately have recovered from 
 an illness, or have suffered severe privations. Stand- 
 ing at the cross-road, in a thick motor-coat, he had 
 looked a more personable fellow ; now there was some- 
 thing pitiable about him. 
 
 "I followed you, Mr. Barr-Simons," he said. "I 
 knew you were here." 
 
 "So I deduced, from your impertinence in beating 
 on the door," answered Barr-Simons, with the same 
 cynical coldness with which he had taunted me in my 
 helplessness. 
 
 "I merely knocked," answered the other with civility, 
 but his eyebrows drew together, nervously or irritably. 
 "I see no impertinence in that. You promised to 
 speak with me as soon as the race should be over." 
 
 "I was occupied with more important people," 
 sneered Barr-Simons. 
 
 "I should have thought I was rather important to 
 you," said the man, flushing all over his sharp-fea- 
 tured, but not ill-looking, face. 
 
 "Then you thought wrong," retorted Barr-Simons. 
 "But now you're here, what do you want? Get it out 
 quickly, for I'm in a hurry. I'm due at the dinner in 
 twenty minutes or so." 
 
 "What do I want?" repeated the newcomer. "I 
 want my pay." 
 
 "You've had it." 
 
 154
 
 Champion 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "You heard me, I think. But I'll be more explicit 
 if you like. I engaged you, and hired an automobile 
 for you, to watch a certain part of the track, just as 
 I engaged certain other men to watch certain other 
 parts, in order to be in readiness to give me help if 
 I needed it." 
 
 The thin man laughed bitterly, and echoed Barr- 
 Simons' words again. "To give you help? That's 
 what you call it, do you ? Well, do you want to know 
 what I call it?" 
 
 "Frankly, I'm afraid it would bore me." 
 
 "Then you shall hear it whether you like or not. 
 You had to take me into your confidence, otherwise 
 I couldn't have been trusted to carry out instructions 
 without making some fatal blunder. You'd paid 
 Cameron's chauffeur to bash him on the head, in the 
 first round of the race, and I was to take him away 
 in my motor-car, dead or alive ; but not until I'd made 
 sure that his car was safely in the hands of your crea- 
 tures creatures I'd engaged to do your bidding, so 
 that you the great Barr-Simons whom every one 
 must recognize shouldn't have to appear in the af- 
 fair." 
 
 Gilbert Barr-Simons laughed contemptuously. 
 
 "Who on earth would believe such a cock-and-bull 
 story as that, if you were fool enough to try and 
 
 155
 
 Champion 
 
 spread it? A discharged employee in my works 
 not only discharged, but discharged for dishonesty, 
 and the proofs in my hands to show to all the world if 
 I choose to crush you, instead of trying to help you 
 back to the right path, as I have done." 
 
 As he listened to these words, the thin man stag- 
 gered slightly, as if Barr-Simons had struck him a 
 blow. His clenched hands relaxed, and I saw beads 
 of sweat suddenly sparkle on his forehead like grains 
 of diamond-dust glittering in the white electric light 
 
 156
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 / Overhear a Strange Conversation. 
 
 I thought for a second or two that the unfortunate 
 wretch would break down and fall in a dead faint, but 
 he pulled himself together with a supreme effort, and 
 had his eyes been daggers I should have had the pleas- 
 ure of seeing Barr-Simons lie dead beside my tires. 
 
 "You are the devil incarnate!" the newcomer flung 
 impotently at the great man. 
 
 "If you had been polite I might have spared you 
 ten minutes, for old acquaintance's sake, and the time 
 when I used to think you a fairly decent fellow," said 
 Barr-Simons. "But as you seem inclined to be rude, 
 I have no more time to give you. I am going to shut 
 up the garage now." 
 
 "I will have justice or something like justice!" 
 stammered the thin man, a patch of red staining each 
 high cheek-bone. 
 
 "I tell you, you've had all from me that you'll get 
 in the way of reward for your small services," Gil- 
 bert Barr-Simons said icily. "Best be careful, or you 
 may look to get something else something that you'll 
 like less and deserve more than anything you've had 
 yet."
 
 Champion 
 
 "You'll give me no more money?" 
 
 "Not a penny. It would be on my conscience if you 
 turned blackmailer as well as forger. I have a cer- 
 tain check still in my possession." 
 
 "You lie. I saw you tear it in pieces and burn it." 
 
 "You thought you saw all that. But you didn't 
 know me, or you'd have distrusted your own eyesight. 
 Now I'm going to dinner." 
 
 "And I may go " 
 
 "Where you choose." 
 
 "Provided I don't interfere with you?" 
 
 "It is impossible for you to interfere with me. I'm 
 a big man. You're a little man in more senses of 
 the word than one." 
 
 "I was of importance enough in your schemes this 
 morning." 
 
 "You flattered yourself if you thought so. Any 
 man of moderate intelligence who could drive a tup- 
 penny-halfpenny hired motor would have suited me as 
 well. And, anyhow, you've ceased to be of the small- 
 est importance to me now ; the sooner you realize that 
 the better it will be for you in the end." 
 
 "What if I show up at the dinner and denounce you 
 for what you are?" 
 
 "You would spend your night in prison or a mad- 
 house, that's all; and, really, either one would be a 
 suitable enough lodging. But there, I've let you 
 
 158
 
 Champion 
 
 bother me too long. Understand, once and for all, 
 that you can say what you like, do, or write what you 
 like. It will harm me no more than a crawling wasp 
 that's lost its sting. That's my final word. Now, 
 since you don't appreciate civility, I'll have to try 
 something stronger. Get out, or I'll call the police." 
 
 He took hold of the man by his slight shoulder and 
 pushed him out of the garage, switching off the electric 
 light near the entrance, and locking the door after 
 himself. Once more I was left alone in darkness and 
 silence. But both were grateful to me. Barr-Simons 
 would not come back now till after the dinner was 
 over. I wished that meanwhile I could set the place 
 on fire with what petrol I had left, and burn up glori- 
 ously, with all my Master's secrets. 
 
 How long a time passed before I again heard voices 
 I cannot tell, but it felt like hours, and I had be- 
 gun to fear that I might expect to hear the grating of 
 Barr-Simons' key at any moment, when I was startled 
 by a strange sound under a small open window high 
 up in the wall. While the light had been turned on, 
 I'd happened to notice the window, but I had no idea 
 what the outlook from it might be. I could only judge 
 that it probably did not look on a public thoroughfare, 
 because of the time that passed without any noise of 
 voices or traffic. 
 
 There was but one faint sound, so faint that I had 
 
 159
 
 not been conscious of it at first ; a monotonous murmur 
 like the lap, lap of moving water. 
 
 The new sound which startled me from my dull 
 lethargy was very different from that, however. Sud- 
 denly, close under the open window, a woman began 
 to moan and weep as if her heart were breaking. She 
 gave little whimpering cries which exploded into sobs 
 at the end, and I listened with my petrol seeming to 
 congeal, for I had never heard a woman cry before. 
 
 Could it possibly be Lia, I wondered ; Lia, who had 
 heard bad news of my Master, and had come here to 
 mourn him, near me? Or could it be Sheila Cam- 
 eron? 
 
 But something inside me said "No" to both these 
 questions. They would not come to Barr-Simons' gar- 
 age at this hour of the night, whatever had happened. 
 Besides, they were both such dainty little ladies, they 
 would not sob uncontrollably and wail, unless in their 
 own locked rooms, I was sure. 
 
 I was very sorry for the woman who was weeping 
 there alone in the dark, for I knew not how to sym- 
 pathize with anything that suffered, whether human 
 or so-called mechanical; but I did not believe that 
 she was a thoroughbred, like Lia Murray or Sheila 
 Cameron. 
 
 For two or three long, painful moments she sobbed 
 
 chokingly, and then, with a quick, indrawn breath 
 
 160
 
 Champion 
 
 man moved quietly to him, and spoke in English: 
 "Why in Heaven's name, if you were going to do it, 
 didn't you do it before he'd won all the honors?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "I couldn't," groaned Arnaud. "Mon Dieu! If 
 I had dreamed I should feel like this, I wouldn't have 
 done it at all. If only I had not! I am a murderer. 
 God knows I didn't mean to strike so hard." 
 
 "You'd better have thought of that beforehand," 
 said the other. "Don't whine now. You've earned 
 your money very badly, but I suppose you've earned 
 it." 
 
 "Thirty pieces of silver," sobbed Arnaud. "Where 
 is the field that I may go and hang myself?" 
 
 "I should think you'd been near enough to death 
 without hanging yourself," sneered the other. "Why 
 didn't you do the thing decently, and take the steering- 
 wheel before the car got out of control?" 
 
 "I did all my possible. I was so sick that I thought 
 I should faint before it was over. I wish I had been 
 killed with Monsieur, instead of left to be torn with 
 this anguish!" 
 
 "If you mean your arm, it will be all right in a 
 day or two. If you mean remorse, you can make 
 yourself easy; Cameron isn't dead. He'll live to put 
 you in prison, if he remembers what happened and 
 
 you don't get out of his way before he can tell tales." 
 
 129
 
 Champion 
 
 "I don't think he knew what happened; he trusted 
 me," stammered Arnaud, paler than ever. "But if 
 he lives I can't let him see me again. I could not bear 
 his eyes. Mon Dieu! shall I ever get out of my ears 
 that awful crack his head gave when I " 
 
 "Shut up!" growled the other. "What is done is 
 done. Try and be a man. Of course I'll have to 
 swear, and the rest will swear, that he lost control 
 of the steering-wheel and was thrown out, with you, 
 when the car ran into the tree. Stick to that story 
 and you're safe, whatever happens. You're to get 
 your second thousand to-day, I believe, and after 
 that you can drown your recollections in drink for 
 the rest of your life if you're so inclined." 
 
 Arnaud's only answer was a groan. But I guessed 
 what was in his mind. He would be the richer for 
 this crime by two thousand pounds a clear thousand 
 more than he stood to gain by honesty if I had won. 
 He hoped that his 'Toinette who had lured him to 
 this 'Toinette, for whose sake he had thrown away 
 honor and stained his hands with blood would marry 
 him now, as she had led him to believe she meant to 
 do. 
 
 But I did not believe that she had ever meant it. 
 I remembered how she had smiled scorn and contempt, 
 which he did not see, that night in our workshop. 
 Barr-Simons had had Arnaud watched, perhaps, in 
 
 130
 
 Champion 
 
 his comings and goings; had come to know of his ad- 
 miration for the music-hall singer, and had bribed 
 her first to encourage him, then to tempt him to his 
 fall. Perhaps I need not have wished a more crushing 
 punishment for Arnaud than to learn that the woman 
 he worshiped had no longer a thought for him; yet 
 I was merciless, and did wish him worse. There was 
 no misery possible for a man to suffer that I would 
 not have wished Arnaud to suffer. And I dared not 
 believe what the other man had told him that my 
 Master was not dead. 
 
 Many cars passed us, their drivers not unseeing, 
 but intent on their own speed record. It was nothing 
 to them that one had fallen by the wayside. Such 
 accidents formed a part of every race. Perhaps they 
 had seen others, as they passed along the course; it 
 was very possible that our disaster was not the only 
 one, and nobody dreamed of foul play. How I longed 
 for a human voice to denounce the traitor, and the 
 villains who had tempted him! It was terrible to 
 realize that I alone knew the truth, and that I was 
 condemned for ever to silence. 
 
 At least, they did not wish for my Master's death, 
 or if they did they had the air of wishing to save him. 
 The man of the cross-road bent over the still body, 
 and poured some liquid from a silver flask between the 
 shut, white lips. Hugh did not move or sigh; but
 
 Champion 
 
 after a discussion between the owner of the brown 
 car, his chauffeur, and Arnaud, my Master was car- 
 ried across to the little automobile and laid in the ton- 
 neau. Then the car was turned and driven away up 
 the cross-road, for the race was not over yet, and the 
 course was not free. 
 
 My first thought was one of horror that Hugh 
 should have fallen into the hands of the enemy, but 
 in a moment I had reflected that, if he still lived, they 
 would do him no harm. No doubt they wished to pose 
 as humanitarians, and be praised for the care they 
 had bestowed upon the victim of the accident. Still, it 
 was agony to have him taken from me, not sure 
 whether he was dead or alive, and fearing that, in 
 either case, I should never see him again. My petrol 
 choked me as he vanished from sight, and my greatest 
 regret for myself was that I had not suffered as much 
 damage from my suicidal act as I had hoped. 
 
 Arnaud remained with me, as did several of the 
 pretended peasants; but as they had been joined by 
 a number of persons who had somehow heard the 
 news, they could have no private communings, even 
 had they wished it. I hated the traitor more bitterly 
 than ever, as in his Master's absence he became the 
 hero of the occasion, pitied and sympathized with for 
 his misfortunes, and the fate of the car and its owner. 
 
 He accepted all, chattered of his wounds and his 
 
 132
 
 Champion 
 
 sufferings, and answered questions about the accident, 
 giving a dramatic, specious, and utterly false version 
 of the catastrophe, which, unless my Master lived and 
 recalled the thing that had really happened, could 
 never be contradicted. Arnaud looked me over, under 
 the interested eye of his admirers, and having dis- 
 covered that my propeller was smashed to atoms, my 
 bonnet flattened, and my steering-rods bent, never- 
 theless pronounced my vital parts to be intact. My 
 wheels, too, were unbroken, and I was furious to hear 
 him say that the steering-rods must have been defective 
 in the first place, or the accident could not have hap- 
 pened. If only I could have got to the tree before he 
 jammed on my brakes and reduced my speed, he would 
 not have lived to tell these lies about his Master's 
 work! 
 
 Before leaving the scene of the accident, the watcher 
 of the cross-road had shouted to Arnaud that he 
 would get some farmer of the neighborhood to send 
 a horse and tow me off the track. I could have hissed 
 with disgust at this, for I knew well enough that the 
 farmer with the horse would be only another actor 
 in this melodrama of deceit. The idea must be to get 
 me away to some spot still quieter, still safer, and 
 more secluded than the one selected for the "accident" 
 to occur, and .there to give me over to the tender mer- 
 cies of the man who had inspired the whole plot. 
 
 133
 
 Champion 
 
 My one hope was that the race might be over be- 
 fore this plan could be carried out, and that Sheila 
 Cameron, or even Cecilia Murray's father, might lay 
 claim to me, by the right of a relative or friend of the 
 owner, until my future fate should be settled. In- 
 deed, there was a bare chance that, if Cecilia Murray 
 had heard the bad news, she would insist upon rescu- 
 ing me for Hugh's sake. She had suspected treachery, 
 and warned my Master. Her quick mind would tell 
 her that the accident was no accident, and she would 
 be ready to do her girlish best in Hugh's interests, I 
 knew. But would not anything she could do be too 
 late? 
 
 While I wondered desperately, counting the mom- 
 ents, hope died with the approach down the cross- 
 road of a huge cart-horse, led by a sullen-looking giant 
 of a man. Racing cars were still dashing by at in- 
 tervals, and my fate was sealed. The horse and I 
 were somehow ignominiously attached to one an- 
 other, to the animal's distaste as well as mine, and, 
 despite the resistance I offered by making myself as 
 heavy and unwieldy as I could, I was compelled to 
 the ignominy of following at the great clumsy crea- 
 ture's tail. 
 
 Slowly, by cross-roads, they towed me back to the 
 starting-point of the race, which by rights I should 
 have won; and, as by this time all the cars had come 
 
 134
 
 Champion 
 
 home, been timed and noted, the wretches did not 
 spare me the humiliation of being dragged past the 
 grand stand, showing my battered body to the world 
 which had cheered me with delirium when last I 
 passed that way. 
 
 I tried to comfort myself by saying: "At least, 
 this is better than being hurried off to some dark hole 
 by Barr-Simons' emissaries, and immured forever. 
 Now, Sheila and Lia Murray will see me, after all. I 
 may be rescued yet." 
 
 But I could not delude myself into being cheered 
 by such sophistry. It was clear that Barr-Simons' 
 game was deeper than I had guessed, and that he was 
 comfortably certain it was all in his own hands, other- 
 wise he would not have run the risk. Or, if I were 
 wrong in this surmise, it was because I had so bat- 
 tered myself that he dismissed me from his mind as 
 worthless, and would simply shame me for the pleas- 
 ure of humiliating his rival, my maker. 
 
 Every one stared at me, as I trailed miserably by 
 behind the cart-horse, all with curiosity, some with 
 pity in their glances, but more, I thought, with that 
 kind of morbid satisfaction in the failure of others, 
 which I have learned since then is too often charac- 
 teristic of human nature. Had I triumphed to the 
 end my victory would hardly have been a popular 
 one, seeing that I was a rank outsider, and a foreign 
 
 135
 
 Champion 
 
 outsider, too; whereas Barr-Simons, though calling 
 himself an Englishman, had a large factory in 
 France, where he employed French workmen. 
 
 I had borne all of ignominy I could bear, it seemed, 
 without dropping to pieces in my mortification, when 
 a thing happened that changed the color of the sky 
 for me. 
 
 136
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 / Fall Into the Hands of the Enemy. 
 
 They had towed me to the middle of the grand 
 stand, when I saw Sheila Cameron and Cecilia Mur- 
 ray. They were not together, of course, but they 
 were standing up, in the midst of other women who 
 were still seated; and the same expression was on 
 both faces an expression of horror and distress. 
 
 The news had come by telephone before I was 
 dragged upon the scene, and they had heard it. Then, 
 suddenly, they caught sight of me, and I heard or 
 fancied that I heard a low, pitiful cry from each. 
 Without any thought except for my Master and his 
 car, the two girls left their places and ran down the 
 steps between the boxes and rows of seats, impul- 
 sively bent on making their way to me. 
 
 At first, Mr. Murray tried to restrain his daughter, 
 but, seeing that this was useless, he followed to keep 
 her in countenance. Sheila's companion, too the 
 handsome, tired-looking woman I had noticed before 
 would have kept her back if she could; but Sheila 
 did not seem to feel the hand on her arm; and her 
 friend, after an instant's hesitation, adopted the same 
 course which Mr. Murray had taken. 
 
 137
 
 Champion 
 
 Just at this moment, the great Barr-Simons the 
 man who for novelty of invention and speed com- 
 bined had won the Surprise Cup was being con- 
 gratulated by the French President, the visiting King, 
 and Vandervoorst, the instigator of the race. He 
 glanced away, to see Sheila and her companion hurry- 
 ing to intercept me, and excusing himself, joined 
 them. But already the Murrays were at my side. 
 The beautiful girl, looking as pale and anxious as if 
 she and my Master had been old friends, began to ask 
 questions of the men who had dragged me to my 
 martyrdom. She spoke in pretty, schoolgirl French, 
 studied from books, and needing practise to perfect 
 pronunciation and accent; but if they had not been 
 taken aback by so much beauty and youthful impetu- 
 osity, they might easily have understood. As it was, 
 they merely looked stupid, and stared, looking still 
 more stupid when Mr. Murray began doing his labori- 
 ous best to help her out. Then, Sheila with the hand- 
 some woman, and Barr-Simons came forward. 
 
 There w r ere tears in Sheila's eyes, and the straining 
 after self-control took something from the feminine 
 softness of her young face, increasing the likeness to 
 her brother. No wonder Lia saw it, remembering 
 Hugh's description of his "little sister," that happy 
 day of our run to Paris! 
 
 "Oh, are you Miss Cameron?" she asked. "You're 
 
 138
 
 Champion 
 
 so like him you must be the sister he told us of, I 
 think. I hope your brother isn't badly hurt? My 
 father and I would be so glad of news of him." 
 
 "If I only knew!" exclaimed Sheila, no longer able 
 to keep back the tears. "We've only just heard of 
 the accident, and nobody seems to know what has hap- 
 pened to him." 
 
 "Where's his chauffeur? Why isn't he here with 
 the car?" cried Lia, a bright color streaming over 
 her face, and her eyes flashing. "I know whatever 
 happened was his fault. I warned Mr. Cameron he 
 was a traitor, that he meant to ruin him if he could. 
 
 But Barr-Simons stepped forward, very polite and 
 very grave, his motoring-cap in his hand. His black 
 hair was whitened with dust, and it made him appear 
 older and less harsh than he would have looked with- 
 out the powdering. "I beg your pardon," he said, 
 "but I think you are doing the poor chauffeur an 
 injustice, for so far from having brought about the 
 accident, he did his very best to prevent it, and has 
 been badly hurt. You are no doubt a friend of Mr. 
 Cameron's? Well, I am his friend, too, I hope; and 
 Miss Cameron is here with my wife and myself. I 
 am sorry that his sister or any friends who care for 
 him should have heard the news of the accident in 
 such a sudden way; I hoped it might have been kept 
 
 139
 
 Champion 
 
 from Miss Cameron till I could have broken it my- 
 self, and told her that there are the best hopes for her 
 brother's recovery." 
 
 "You are sure?" implored Sheila, while Lia 
 awaited the answer in silence. 
 
 "Sure. I couldn't get to you till now, you know, 
 or you should have heard my version of the unlucky 
 accident before any rumor of something dreadful and 
 mysterious began going round, and it always does on 
 occasions like this. I passed the car myself, on the 
 course, just after the steering-gear had gone wrong 
 must have been a little weakness, everybody thinks 
 and it had smashed into a tree. But Hugh was 
 sitting up, drinking out of a flask some one had offered 
 him, and the poor chauffeur seemed the worse off of 
 the two." 
 
 Now, I knew he was lying, and my hopes, which 
 had revived, died down again. The scoundrel was 
 merely trying to make his impression on the two cred- 
 ulous girls; and the worst was that he was likely to 
 succeed. Sheila's eyes brightened, and the cloud of 
 suspicion began to clear away from Lia's charming 
 face. I was sure she did not understand that this man 
 was Barr-Simons, Hugh's enemy ; and seeing him with 
 Sheila, hearing that Hugh's sister was staying with 
 his wife, must have convinced her of the man's sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 140
 
 Champion 
 
 "Surely you didn't pass without doing anything for 
 Hugh?" exclaimed Sheila, knowing nothing of the 
 cold selfishness which racing men must cultivate if 
 they would be successful. 
 
 "Of course not," he lied again. "I slowed down 
 and gave directions that he was to be taken to a hos- 
 pital, which is, luckily, rather near. A friend of mine 
 was close by had been watching the race in his auto- 
 mobile from a cross-road; he promised to take charge 
 of everything, and let me have news for you, Miss 
 Cameron, as soon as he could, 
 
 "Then I was obliged to go on to clear the way for 
 other racers. It wouldn't do to block the course; 
 though, as far as I was concerned, I would gladly 
 have sacrificed my own chances of winning to do any- 
 thing for Hugh, who ought by rights, I feel, to have 
 beaten me. He made a splendid fight, Miss Cameron, 
 and you may well be proud of him, though by bad 
 luck he failed. If you agree, I'll give orders that his 
 car shall be taken to my garage, and kept there until 
 he's well enough to claim it." 
 
 Sheila seemed distressed and slightly confused. "I 
 I wish I knew what my brother would wish," she 
 murmured, remembering, no doubt, his hints, which 
 had almost amounted to accusations, of Gilbert Barr- 
 Simons as his enemy. 
 
 But who, seeing and listening to the man now, 
 
 141
 
 Champion 
 
 would not have trusted him, believing that he had 
 been misjudged? who, not knowing the black truth 
 of him, as I knew it? He appeared sympathetic, con- 
 siderate, and even gentle, and, though he may have 
 guessed the cause of Sheila's hesitation, he showed no 
 sign of offense. 
 
 "I think," he said, "that your brother would wish 
 me to look after the welfare of his car, because, no 
 doubt, he values it of all things; and if I don't take 
 care of it, what is to become of it ? He has no intimate 
 friends here, I believe; at least" and he glanced at 
 Mr. Murray and Lia "in the automobile world. 
 Edith, try to persuade Miss Cameron that I am right." 
 
 "I'm sure he is, dear," urged his handsome wife 
 kindly; and Sheila could not hold out longer. 
 
 "Very well, I suppose you know best," she faltered, 
 with visible reluctance, yet fearing to be ungracious 
 and unjust. 
 
 "Good!" said Barr-Simons cheerfully. "That's set- 
 tled! Now come along, and I'll take you to see your 
 brother." 
 
 Sheila moved forward eagerly; then paused, turn- 
 ing shyly to the Murrays. "Would you you are 
 dear friends of his, aren't you would you wish to 
 to go with us?" she stammered. 
 
 Lia flushed so painfully that tears were forced to 
 her eyes. "We're very much interested in him," she 
 
 143
 
 Champion 
 
 said, "but we've known him only a short time. We 
 couldn't take the liberty of visiting him with you at 
 the hospital; but if we should go somewhere near 
 there and wait, would you let us know how he is?" 
 
 "Certainly, we would," Sheila answered, "if you're 
 sure you won't come with us?" 
 
 "My daughter is quite right," Mr. Murray replied 
 for the girl. "It would be a liberty for us to go and 
 see Mr. Cameron with his sister." 
 
 While they were talking, and before Barr-Simons 
 could get them away though I thought he was anx- 
 ious to do so Mr. Vandervoorst, who had escaped 
 from his distinguished companions, came toward the 
 group. His face was even nicer than it had been 
 in the photograph pinned up in our workshop, but 
 now it was very grave. He spoke to Barr-Simons in 
 a low voice, yet I heard what he said. He was ask- 
 ing to be introduced to Hugh Cameron's sister. 
 
 "Why, of course, if you wish," returned Barr- 
 Simons, evidently far from pleased at the suggestion. 
 "But she's awfully upset about her brother, just now. 
 Don't you think another time " 
 
 "It's about her brother that I want to speak," said 
 Vandervoorst. "I should be obliged to you if you'd 
 introduce me." 
 
 Short of ungraciousness and making himself dis- 
 agreeable to the young millionaire, Barr-Simons could 
 
 143
 
 Champion 
 
 hardly hold off longer; and I know now that people 
 think twice before making themselves disagreeable to 
 millionaires, even when they, too, are rich and of 
 consequence. He brought Vandervoorst nearer to 
 Sheila and mentioned his name. Apparently Mrs. 
 Barr-Simons and the American had met previously, 
 for they bowed to each other before Vandervoorst 
 began speaking very earnestly and gravely to Sheila. 
 
 Seeing her thus occupied, and not wishing to put 
 themselves forward, the Murrays moved away and 
 stood at a little distance. Then they whispered to 
 each other; and a moment later, while the group of 
 four were murmuring together, oblivious of them, 
 father and daughter came straight to where I now 
 stood, miserably awaiting the settlement of my fate. 
 
 The two men who were with me were French, and 
 Lia began to talk to her father about me in English, 
 as if they had no existence for her. 
 
 "Oh, Dad!" she exclaimed, "isn't it too sad to see 
 the poor darling half-dead, like this, when he was so 
 gay and splendid on the way to Paris, and was so 
 brave and wonderful to-day only a little, little while 
 ago! Yet look at him now." 
 
 "Great Scott, Lia, what do you mean?" exclaimed 
 Mr. Murray. "Who's half-dead, after being so gay?" 
 
 "Why, the dear car, of course," said Lia, quite 
 
 impatient at not being understood; and I could have 
 
 144
 
 Champion 
 
 a few miles for me. At Nimes there's a man I've had 
 dealings with who'll put the car up for me in his gar- 
 age, and fit it with a new body on tick which will 
 disguise it. I shall tell him I've bought one of the 
 broken racers several came croppers to-day for a 
 song, and that I want it turned into a touring car, as 
 soon as possible. It will make a fine one, a splendid 
 asset for two adventurers. With smart clothes, a title 
 we've only to choose one and a magnificent high- 
 powered automobile to travel in, we shall find the 
 world our oyster. I think we couldn't do better than 
 begin with the Riviera. The high season's on till after 
 Easter, and luckily for us, Easter falls late this year. 
 Do you speak French well enough to be a French com- 
 tesse? Or had we better be Russians prince and 
 princess ?" 
 
 "I don't know a word of Russian." 
 
 "And I, not half a dozen. But all the Russians of 
 the higher classes speak French, even to each other and 
 in their own homes. Princes grow thick as blackber- 
 ries in Russia; we will be touring the Riviera on our 
 wedding trip, and that part of the romance we will 
 make genuine." 
 
 "If we should be found out?" 
 
 "The danger's part of the adventure. But it's so 
 late in the season. Most of the Russians will be gone. 
 
 And, anyhow, we'll reap a golden harvest before the 
 
 177
 
 Champion 
 
 storm. The one difficulty, after we've got the car, is 
 the lack of ready money just a bit to start out with 
 the rest will come like the air we breathe." 
 
 "I have a little jewelry we might pawn a ring 
 left me by an aunt; it might be worth ten pounds; a 
 string of pearls quite stingy small ones Monsieur 
 Beringer gave me secretly on my birthday; a watch 
 that was my own mother's, and a few other trifles. 
 We might get thirty or forty pounds for the lot. It 
 wasn't enough for me to go on with. But it might do 
 for us for a few days." 
 
 "Good. Nothing could be better. We'll raise 
 money on the things to-morrow at Nimes. Just now 
 there's lots to do. I have to climb up this ladder, 
 which I borrowed from the gardener's next door, and 
 creep through that tiny window up there it will be a 
 tight squeeze, even for a thin chap bring out the car, 
 and fire the place behind me." 
 
 "Oh, must you do that?" 
 
 "Yes, or they'll be hot on our track. If the garage 
 is burnt to the ground we shall have several days' start 
 at worst, for they won't discover at first that the re- 
 mains of both cars aren't still in the place. Besides, 
 I want more complete revenge on Barr-Simons than 
 cheating him out of poor Cameron's secrets; though 
 that loss alone will touch him to the quick. He shall 
 
 lose his own property, too, as well as his chance to pick 
 
 178
 
 Champion 
 
 another man's brains. Do you grudge me my satis- 
 faction?" 
 
 "No-o. I should feel as you do, if it were the 
 Beringers. And the wretch deserves to suffer he's a 
 villain." 
 
 "Then we're agreed. There's no more time to play 
 with now. I'm going to place the ladder." 
 
 Silence followed this last announcement; but pres- 
 ently I heard a scraping noise, and then the man's 
 voice spoke close to the open window, high in the wall. 
 
 "Jove! I can't do it. I can't get my shoulders 
 through. Are we to be beaten, after all by a hole in 
 the wall?" 
 
 "Let me try," said the girl eagerly. "I should love 
 to help you. I'm such a little slim thing, I know I 
 can squeeze through, and I'm not afraid to let myself 
 drop on the other side. It can't be much of a fall. 
 Then I'll unlock the door, and you can walk in." 
 
 "Good!" said the man. "You're a brave child. 
 Already you're showing me the stuff you're made of. 
 I may owe my whole success to you; and it wouldn't 
 be the less sweet for that." 
 
 Again there was silence. The pair were too intent 
 upon the work they had in hand to speak, but not 
 more than two or three minutes could have passed 
 before I heard again a scratching noise below the 
 
 window. Then came a light, quick breathing, as of 
 
 179
 
 C h a m p I 5 tt 
 
 one in excitement; a scrambling, a low laugh, and a 
 little cry of triumph. 
 
 The high window had been cut out of the darkness 
 which lay thick in the garage, a small square of glim- 
 mering blue. Now it was filled with black shadow, 
 and the breathing grew heavier and more excited. At 
 last, the blue square was clear again, and I heard the 
 tapping of little pointed shoes against the wall. The 
 girl had squeezed through the window; she was hang- 
 ing from the frame by her hands ; as soon as she found 
 courage she would drop ! 
 
 She and her newly allied partner were not moralists, 
 but they were better than Barr-Simons, for they had 
 red blood in their veins and human hearts in their 
 breasts. Besides, they planned to snatch me and my 
 Master's secrets from Barr-Simons; and, as it seemed 
 to me that anything which could possibly happen 
 would be preferable to staying with him, I found my- 
 self sympathizing with the past troubles of the 
 strangely met pair, and ardently wishing for their 
 future success. It did occur to me that perhaps this 
 man might try to steal from me the secrets he had 
 torn from Barr-Simons; but I could see how difficult 
 it would be for a man in his position to take advan- 
 tage of any knowledge he might obtain, even if he 
 appreciated its full value. Barr-Simons had two fac- 
 tories and plenty of money. This fellow had nothing, 
 
 180
 
 Champion 
 
 and no credit. He had decided to run the risk of 
 running off with me partly for the sake of revenge, 
 partly because I could start him upon a career; but 
 the success of that career would depend upon his con- 
 cealing my identity and real nature. There lay pro- 
 tection for my Master's secrets, if he should live and 
 be able to make further use of them; and in my joy 
 at that thought I would not dwell just then on the 
 difficulty of making myself known to Hugh should 
 we ever meet again in the disguise my new owner 
 meant to put me in. 
 
 I had but a few seconds in which to carburate these 
 reflections before the girl let herself drop, knocking 
 over some tins in her descent, which made such a 
 clashing and rattling as they rolled about the floor 
 in the darkness that I was afraid some one passing 
 the door might hear, and give an alarm. 
 
 The girl fell among these cans, and must have hurt 
 herself, for I heard her give a little whimpering moan, 
 like a child's, as she picked herself up; but aloud, she 
 cried to her friend cheerfully, "I'm all right. Now 
 I'm going to find the electric light, if I can, and open 
 the door." 
 
 At this, he must have deserted his post under the 
 window and hurried round to the front of the garage, 
 for while the giil was still feeling her way through 
 
 the darkness, his voice called her at the door. "Slip 
 
 181
 
 Champion 
 
 back the bolts," he said. "Barr-Simons has got the 
 key, of course; but when the bolts are undone the 
 two doors will swing open when I pull." 
 
 Her skirts brushed against me as she passed me, on 
 her way to obey instructions; and a moment later I 
 heard the clatter of the bolts, as with all her force 
 the girl shoved them out of place. Then came a 
 draft of cool air, as the man entered, shutting the 
 door again. 
 
 "I couldn't find the switch," she said, her voice 
 trembling with excitement. 
 
 "I know where it is," he answered; and almost in- 
 stantly the garage was flooded with the crude, white 
 light which a few hours ago had shown me the face 
 of my arch enemy. 
 
 Now I saw once more it showed me the face of the 
 man whom that enemy had thrust out, lightly daring 
 him to do his worst. I looked with more interest at 
 the sharp, clever features now, the bright, dark eyes, 
 the cleft chin and red mustache. And I observed 
 quite as eagerly the girl whose story I had heard. 
 
 I did not wonder that the man had been taken with 
 her appearance, and fancied her a suitable partner 
 for such a career as he proposed. She w r as small and 
 slight, not in the least queenly, nor was she a real 
 beauty like Cecilia Murray; but her figure was per- 
 fect, willowy and voluptuous though slender, and fem- 
 
 182
 
 Champion 
 
 inine in every charming curve. The face was piquant, 
 in shape rather like a heart, and it was framed with 
 a cloud of soft brown hair, loosened by her fall. The 
 nose was dainty, if insignificant, and the pouting 
 mouth seemed made for the singing of love ballads 
 and lover's kisses, but the great attraction was the 
 eyes. Not that they were remarkable for form or 
 color, but she had a way of looking up suddenly from 
 under heavy white lids and thick dark lashes that 
 must have set a man's blood beating faster. Auto- 
 mobile as I was, I could not help rejoicing that so 
 enticing a creature had been saved from the river, even 
 if for a career which might leave her short of such 
 merit as she still preserved. 
 
 "You're even prettier than I thought," said the man, 
 blinking at her, his eyes half -dazzled by the sudden 
 glare of the electric light. 
 
 The girl thanked him with a smile. "And you are 
 nicer, too," she laughed. "But do you know what has 
 struck me? We've told each other everything about 
 ourselves except our names !" 
 
 "That doesn't matter much, since we're going to 
 choose a new one between us," he said. "But mine 
 has been Paul Fanning." 
 
 "Paul you must keep. It's my favorite for a man 
 another coincidence!" she exclaimed. "I'm Mary 
 Precious." 
 
 183
 
 Champion 
 
 "You'll still be precious to me," said the man. 
 "And why not change your Mary for Marie, to the 
 world? As for our title, we'll decide on it later, over 
 a glass of champagne." 
 
 "Champagne sounds better than water with that 
 black, running river photographed on my mind," 
 cried the girl. "But now for the car that will take 
 us to the champagne." 
 
 "Now for the car," he echoed; and gave his atten- 
 tion to me. 
 
 The first thing he did was to turn on my switch, 
 and as there was strong compression in one of my 
 cylinders, I could but explode, even if I had wished 
 to be dumb, when the spark lit with life the waiting 
 molecules of gas. Softly, rhythmically, as in the 
 happy days of old, my motor sang its song. 
 
 "Good!" said Paul Fanning. "I thought the en- 
 gine was all right, and it is, you see. We shall be able 
 to do the trick, my Princess. As for this fan affair, 
 it's smashed beyond hope. I'll get rid of the thing, 
 for I can't make use of it one way or another but 
 I'm hanged if Barr-Simons shall have it to brood 
 over. Just in case the fire should spare it to him, 
 I'll throw what's le't into the river." And when he 
 had snatched up a spanner and disconnected the 
 broken wings of my propeller from my body as if 
 
 I were a fallen angel doomed to punishment he 
 
 184
 
 Champion 
 
 pulled a bench under the high window, and flung out 
 the battered remains of my greatness. I heard an 
 answering splash of water, and though I felt a respon- 
 sive pang, still I was glad, for my loss was Barr- 
 Simons' loss as well. 
 
 His next act was to stop a leak which he suspected, 
 and to fill me up with all the petrol I could hold. He 
 also thriftily stowed away here and there as many 
 spare bidons as I was able to carry, and annexed an 
 acetylene-lamp which he found. Then, turning off 
 the light for prudence's sake, before he once more 
 threw the doors open wide, he mounted into my Mas- 
 ter's seat and drove me out into the night. 
 
 It was easy to tell that an unaccustomed hand was 
 guiding me; still, none save an all-round expert and 
 clever driver, such as he evidently was, could have got 
 me to move when touching me for the first time. He 
 took me to a little distance from the garage, and 
 brought me to a standstill in the intense black shadow 
 cast by a large chestnut-tree. A low whistle called 
 the newly named Marie to his side, and he bade her 
 be seated on me while he went back to "finish the 
 business." 
 
 "Be careful," she whispered; and I could hear her 
 breath coming fast and irregularly as she waited in 
 the darkness. At last she gave a smothered cry; and 
 at the same instant a light sprang up behind rile. Then 
 
 185
 
 Champion 
 
 came the sound of running feet, and Fanning was 
 lighting the lamp which he had fastened deftly onto 
 my battered bonnet, and mounting quickly to the 
 driver's seat. 
 
 Damaged as I was, I could not run my best, when 
 he had started me; but I limped along willingly, 
 grateful to this adventurer who was taking me, broken 
 as I was, out of Barr-Simons' clutches. 
 
 "How did you do it?" asked the girl, as I whisked 
 round the corner of a narrow street like a lane, and 
 into a wide, open road, lined by a few suburban villas. 
 
 "Drenched the place with all the petrol we couldn't 
 carry, and flung in from outside a piece of lighted 
 cotton-waste," answered Fanning joyously. "I dashed 
 the doors shut, so that the light shouldn't be seen too 
 soon, but it was a pity I had to; open there'd have 
 been more draft. There's no fear, though; nothing 
 could save the place now. The garage was run up in 
 a hurry; Barr-Simons' chauffeur is in the sulks on 
 account of that time-lock, and is drowning his sorrows 
 in drink at a cafe in the town. The fire's sure to have 
 fifteen minutes' start, at the least, before the alarm 
 can be given, and then, by the time the firemen get 
 on the scene, the roof will have fallen in." 
 
 "I'm glad there's no house near. I should hate to 
 think we'd endangered people's lives," said the girl. 
 
 "No chance of that. Barr-Simons is the only one 
 186
 
 FANNING WAS LIGHTING THE LAMP. 
 
 (/. 186.)
 
 Champion 
 
 who'll suffer," Fanning chuckled, and the girl joined 
 him in excited laughter, as we fled on and on through 
 the night, out into the quiet country. 
 
 Thankful as I was to get away, carrying the secret 
 of all my Master's inventions, I bore an aching burden 
 of despair which grew heavier with each kilometer 
 that I ran. I was leaving Hugh Cameron behind, and 
 perhaps I should never know whether he still lived 
 in the same world with me, or had gone to another, 
 where the best automobile could never hope to follow. 
 
 It was not yet midnight when we started, and dawn 
 for me a sadly different dawn from the last was 
 beginning to trail a pale torch along the horizon in 
 the east, when we drove into a large, sleeping town. 
 We had passed other towns, but had kept on the out- 
 skirts; and when I heard Fanning say to his com- 
 panion, "This is Nimes," I knew that we had come to 
 the end of our journey for the night. I remembered 
 only too well what was to happen to me at Nimes. 
 
 Slowly we wound through quiet streets, where the 
 shuttered windows of houses were like fast-closed 
 eyes, and stopped at length before the barred doors of 
 a garage. 
 
 "My friend lives on the floor above," said Fanning. 
 "There's an electric bell, and I'll have him down in 
 two minutes. Then, when all's settled, you and I'll 
 
 have our first breakfast together. You must be starv- 
 
 187
 
 Champion 
 
 ing with hunger as well as cold; and afterward, when 
 hot coffee has put life into you, I'll find you lodgings, 
 which will do well enough until we're married." 
 
 The girl, who had no wrap, must have been chilled 
 to the bone, but she answered gaily, and I liked her 
 for her pluck. 
 
 The electric bell was rung, and after a few minutes' 
 delay a side door, opening from a stairway which led 
 to the floor above the garage, was noisily unlocked. 
 A man peeped out, and at sight of Fanning flung the 
 door wide, exclaiming in French at the surprise. He 
 was tousled, his feet bare except for slippers, and he 
 had hastily pulled on a pair of trousers over a flannel 
 shirt. 
 
 For a minute the two gabbled so fast that I could 
 scarcely catch a word, but presently Fanning began 
 volubly to explain that he had "bought for nothing at 
 all" this was strictly true! a car which had been 
 badly damaged in the Vandervoorst Cup Race. Now, 
 he wanted to keep it in his friend's garage; and as he 
 had seized the opportunity afforded him by the auto- 
 mobile of running away with a young lady whose 
 parents objected to the match, he prayed his cher 
 Nicolas to give him and the car secret sanctuary. No 
 one must dream that he and his fiancee were in Nimes. 
 They would be married as soon a% possible, and mean- 
 while Nicolas must order a new body, or, better still, 
 
 188
 
 Champion 
 
 find one that would answer ready made, as if for an 
 automobile of his own. 
 
 Evidently the friendly Nicolas had known Fanning 
 in the latter's palmy days; and not dreaming what a 
 man of straw he was now entertaining, he promised to 
 arrange everything to his good Paul's satisfaction. 
 The master of the garage was introduced with much 
 ceremony to the charming fiancee, and the doors being 
 presently opened, I was driven into the garage. 
 
 It proved to be a large one, with several inner 
 rooms, and I was locked up in one of these, a miser- 
 able, homesick automobile, with an undying sorrow 
 gnawing at my valves. 
 
 There were so many things which I longed to find 
 out that I was glad when, after an hour or two, 
 Nicolas and Fanning returned to me, with another 
 man. They looked me over thoroughly, and the 
 stranger, whom they called Monsieur Soubise, took 
 a number of measurements, which he wrote down in a 
 note-book. He seemed as jolly and agreeable as 
 Nicolas, and asked Fanning questions about the great 
 race. 
 
 They all talked of the burning of Barr-Simons' gar- 
 age and the destruction of his car, and I could tell 
 by their conversation that the news had been in the 
 morning papers. The chauffeur, who had been drunk 
 
 at the time, was suspected, and Fanning solemnly 
 
 189
 
 Champion 
 
 pronounced the opinion that the fellow was a worthless 
 chap, more than likely to be guilty. Neither Nicolas 
 nor Soubise said a word about the Cameron car in 
 connection with the burnt garage, and I guessed that 
 Barr-Simons had talked as little as possible about its 
 presence there. Those who knew would probably 
 suppose that I had perished in the fire with the win- 
 ning automobile. 
 
 The talk did turn, however, to my Master and me; 
 for we had made our mark in the history of motoring 
 before we were treacherously swept off the field; and 
 I don't know what Fanning's inward feelings must 
 have been as he had to answer questions about Mon- 
 sieur Cameron and his wonderful invention. It was 
 only at the last that I had the unspeakable satisfaction 
 of hearing from a word dropped by Nicolas that my 
 Master still lived. 
 
 "They say he may get well, after all," he remarked. 
 "And if the papers tell truth, Vandervoorst is taking 
 a great interest in his recovery." 
 
 "That must annoy Barr-Simons," said Fanning, 
 "for it's no secret that he was jealous of Cameron, 
 and wouldn't have won if the best car hadn't been 
 smashed." 
 
 "This automobile seems to be a novelty, and of 
 clever design," observed Soubise. 
 
 "Paul has told me that it is the invention of a 
 
 190
 
 Champion 
 
 Monsieur Henley, who has made a twin car to this, 
 expecting a success, but thinks nothing of either now 
 that he has failed," explained Nicolas. 
 
 This was a bold stroke of Fanning's, for a man 
 named Henley had actually been a competitor. I had 
 heard my Master mention the name to Arnaud. 
 
 Nothing more happened to me for the next few 
 hours, but after a dark interval of silence save for 
 voices of men and motors outside my closed doors 
 Fanning and Nicolas appeared again, to superintend 
 several workmen whom they let loose upon me. 
 
 I had had fair warning what my fate was to be, 
 but I had not realized how bitterly I should hate it 
 how keenly I should feel the pain and humiliation 
 of the change. It was like death to be torn to pieces 
 by indifferent hands of strangers, who stripped off 
 my neat racing-body of aluminum, and I loathed the 
 smell and color of the crimson paint with which my 
 wheels were now lavishly smeared. 
 
 Days passed, after this first degradation, each one 
 more disagreeable than the other. Of what occurred 
 outside to my new owners I could only conjecture, 
 but apparently nothing arose to mar their plans; for 
 Fanning dropped in at his old friend's garage from 
 time to time, and was always outwardly, at least 
 in a jovial mood. One afternoon the men at work 
 
 upon me were invited to drink his health and that of 
 
 191
 
 Champion 
 
 "Madame," and I deduced that the marriage was an 
 accomplished fact If there had been difficulties in 
 the way, no doubt le cher Nicolas had helped to bridge 
 them over. 
 
 As to the things which happened to me, I was only 
 too sure, no conjecture being needed. My bonnet was 
 altered in shape, and I was changed from an all- 
 conquering racer into a mere touring car, with a great 
 body swelling out into a tonneau behind the driver's 
 seat, and having a roof to cover both. There were 
 glass windows and screens, and springy cushions cov- 
 ered with crimson leather, and the paint on this gor- 
 geous erection was also a glaring crimson, to match 
 my changed wheels. 
 
 Though shorn of my magical propeller and so al- 
 tered that even Hugh Cameron himself could not 
 have recognized me, except by examining my engine, 
 I was still Champion Champion unchanged at heart, 
 and worthy of the name, because of my superior 
 powers. There was little consolation in this, how- 
 ever; indeed, perhaps it but made the pain sharper 
 to know myself a monarch, while to the rest of the 
 world I was no more than any other showy, high- 
 powered automobile, conducting rich tourists about 
 the country. 
 
 Through Nicolas, Fanning was able to obtain a 
 
 new number-plate; exactly how, I could not find out, 
 
 192
 
 Champion 
 
 but I fancy I must have been re-registered in Nicolas' 
 name, and the moment my red paint was dry I was 
 loaded up with some new, smart-looking luggage. 
 This was a sure sign that we were about to start off 
 in search of the adventures Paul Fanning had prom- 
 ised his Marie; and, though it was late in the after- 
 noon when the boxes came, I took it for granted that 
 we should get off at once. I was provided with lamps 
 as fine, though of a different make from those I had 
 worn in happier times, when my Master took me out 
 at night for my glorious trial spins; therefore, I 
 would be well able to turn night into day; and I was 
 not surprised ,vhen Marie followed the luggage into 
 the garage within half an hour after its appearance. 
 
 She was now Y er y smart, and so was Fanning, who 
 preceded her, dressed like a gentleman chauffeur. 
 Marie had fitted herself up in a neat but jaunty coat, 
 which reached to her heels, a motoring-hat with pretty 
 wings, and an arrangement of chiffon that formed a 
 thick scarf and veil. How the pair had contrived to 
 obtain these things, as well as to have the expensive 
 changes made in my get-up, I could not imagine; but 
 I expected to find out sooner or later from their con- 
 versation. 
 
 They bade good-by to Monsieur Nicolas, and 
 mounted to the two front seats; then Fanning, who 
 had taught himself the intricacies of my mechanism 
 
 193
 
 Champion 
 
 during the fortnight of waiting, drove me grandly 
 out of the garage. 
 
 I noticed how carefully Marie had swathed her 
 pretty face and hair with folds of chiffon, how long 
 were the tremendous flaps of Fanning's cap, and how 
 like a mask was the large piece of leather that framed 
 his goggles. "They are determined not to be recog- 
 nized in case there should be any one about who ever 
 saw them before," I said to myself; but I was to 
 learn presently that their motive for hiding their faces 
 was more subtle than I imagined. 
 
 194
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 / Become an Adventurer. 
 
 We had not been out of the garage long before my 
 new owners began to talk. 
 
 "Well/' said Paul, "off at last! Are you happy?" 
 
 "I would be, if I hadn't that dear, kind little Nico- 
 las on my conscience," answered his Marie. 
 
 "There it is!" he exclaimed. "I was afraid you 
 weren't cut out for an adventuress. You mustn't 
 mind things like that." 
 
 "I shouldn't, if he were rich. I want only rich 
 people to pay. And he was so trusting! He saw 
 us through everything." 
 
 "Nicolas isn't worrying. I've told him I expect 
 supplies in Monte Carlo, and will send him a check 
 to cover the whole sum; and I mean to keep my 
 promise." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "I don't know yet. That's part of the fun, for a 
 born gambler." 
 
 "I suppose so. I mean to feel like that, too," said 
 Marie. 
 
 Yet she sighed. Paul was right. She wasn't cut 
 out for an adventuress. 
 
 195
 
 Champion 
 
 We drove on slowly, through beautiful country, 
 until after dark; then when we had run into a town 
 called Tarascon, it seemed we were to remain for the 
 night. We stopped at a large hotel, which had a gar- 
 age of its own, into which I was taken, and there I 
 heard Fanning say to one of the attendants in a lordly 
 way, that he had been obliged to discharge his chauf- 
 feur, and was in immediate want of another. "The 
 ungrateful fellow was cheating me in the most ama- 
 zing manner," he went on, "and under his influence 
 the maid of Madame la Princesse had also become dis- 
 honest. We must stay here until we can find a com- 
 petent man and woman to take their places." 
 
 If my sense of humor had not been pretty well 
 knocked out of me during the last black fortnight, I 
 should have exploded at this "Madame la Princesse." 
 So she was that already! And it was impossible for 
 their highnesses to give themselves the pain of travel- 
 ing farther without a chauffeur and a maid. 
 
 The attendant was all servility to his exalted client. 
 He was sure that he would be able to recommend to 
 Monsieur le Prince an accomplished young man who, 
 if not used to driving this particular make of car, was 
 so experienced that after one trial he would know as 
 much of the automobile as Monsieur himself. As for 
 a maid for Madame la Princesse, she would have to 
 
 demand advice of la patronne of the hotel, and voila, 
 
 196
 
 Champion 
 
 a jewel among young women, would immediately be 
 at her service. 
 
 Next morning the accomplished young man was 
 actually forthcoming, and arrived early at the hotel 
 garage, with the view of being inspected. Monsieur 
 le Prince did not send for him to his apartments, as 
 the chauffeur evidently expected, but presently ap- 
 peared in person, in the garage. I heard his voice, and 
 the voice of the Princess before I saw them ; and when 
 they did saunter into my line of vision, I had a shock 
 of surprise. 
 
 Mary Precious had had pale complexion, with eye- 
 lashes and brows only a little darker than her brown 
 hair. Paul Fanning had had singularly colorless skin, 
 with auburn hair and a red mustache. But the Prin- 
 cess possessed masses of golden hair and beauti- 
 ful pink cheeks. In contrast with this gold, her eye- 
 lashes and eyebrows looked almost black. Altogether 
 she was a dazzling being, so changed that I should 
 not have known her if I had passed her in the 
 street. 
 
 As for the Prince, his hair was a very dark brown ; 
 his skin was olive, and he wore no mustache. De- 
 spite the cleft in his chin, he was even less like Paul 
 Fanning, if possible, than Mary Precious was like the 
 Princess. 
 
 Now I knew why they had said good-by yester- 
 
 m
 
 Champion 
 
 day to Monsieur Nicolas with their faces and heads 
 covered from sight with chiffon, cloth, and leather. 
 They had prepared for their new parts before starting, 
 wholly or partially, and had not left themselves too 
 much to do after arriving at the first stage of their 
 journey. 
 
 Paul Fanning and his bride had now vanished into 
 space, and would never reach Monte Carlo, whence 
 Monsieur Nicolas was expecting to hear from them; 
 but the Prince and Princess would arrive there, and 
 would then, perhaps, take upon themselves Mr. and 
 Mrs. Fanning's obligations. 
 
 The chauffeur was introduced to the Prince and 
 Princess by the attendant who recommended him, and 
 in this way I learned their highnesses' names. They 
 were, it seemed, Prince and Princess Vasilievna, who 
 had been making a tour of France in their automobile 
 and intended to motor to Monte Carlo, where they 
 would stay so long as they amused themselves. The 
 young man, who gave his name as Jacques Potin, was 
 delighted with the prospects of an engagement with 
 such exalted personages. He was smart-looking, had 
 plenty of credentials, and seemed quick at picking up 
 hints concerning me. He had never seen anything like 
 me before, it became evident when he set himself to 
 examine and master my mechanism; but he was too 
 politic to express surprise, and seemed satisfied when
 
 Champion 
 
 the Prince mentioned that I had been manufactured 
 by a new firm in St. Petersburg; that I was, in fact, 
 the first successful car made in Russia. He mumbled 
 a jaw-breaking name which apparently suggested 
 nothing to the chauffeur; but Potin was too wise to 
 say so. And it was as well, perhaps, that he did not 
 pretend to have heard it before. 
 
 Potin was duly engaged; and he and the Prince 
 took me out for a spin, while the Princess stopped in 
 the house, and, presumably, selected a maid from 
 among various applicants. At all events, when we 
 started off next day, there was a neat, dark young 
 woman to tuck the Princess in, and arrange the hand- 
 luggage. She did not, however, go on with us, but 
 was sent to Marseilles by train, where she was to 
 engage rooms for her master and mistress. 
 
 If my own affairs had not been going so badly, I 
 should have enjoyed that run from Tarascon to Mar- 
 seilles. But, great lumbering, red bulk that I was 
 now, bereft of my Master and half my most valued 
 characteristics, what was the soft southern landscape 
 to me? The distant mountains, the glimpses of deep, 
 blue sea, the dark cypresses and silver olives, the 
 rich color of roses and scarlet geraniums spraying over 
 gray walls, only made me the sadder for their beauty. 
 
 After London and Paris, Marseilles was by far 
 
 the biggest town that I had seen yet. It was after- 
 
 199
 
 Champion 
 
 noon when we arrived, and turned into the glass- 
 roofed courtyard of a white, gaily decorated hotel. 
 It was a large courtyard, and all round it ran a slight- 
 ly raised platform, covered with matting. Here and 
 there, against the white house-wall, stood a huge, blue 
 pot containing a palm, or flowering plant; and the 
 many green-painted wicker chairs, grouped round little 
 tables, were occupied by ladies and gentlemen drink- 
 ing tea. 
 
 They all looked up with interest as I appeared; but 
 if they were curious about me, I was equally curious 
 concerning them; there were so many of them, and 
 they all or nearly all had such an odd sort of re- 
 semblance to one another. Whatever else they might 
 be, they were English, I was sure, although there was 
 something different about them from any other Eng- 
 lish people I had seen. The men were all dressed in 
 tweed suits and brown boots, as much alike as pos- 
 sible, and even their neckties were tied in the same 
 way. They were lean and bronzed; their hair was 
 very short and very neat ; they looked as if they were 
 fresh from cold baths, and most of them had an air 
 of self-reliance and command, as if accustomed to 
 order and to be obeyed. The ladies, too, might almost 
 have been sisters. They were brown and thin, like 
 the men, and all seemed to be of the same age, their 
 
 simple, but well-made dresses cut from the same 
 
 200
 
 Champion 
 
 pattern. They wore coats and short skirts and blouses, 
 and an air of being certain they were right, and better 
 than other women. 
 
 I was wondering where these people could have 
 come from, and if, though they were so many, they 
 could all be members of one enormous family, when 
 Paul murmured to Marie, as he helped her down: 
 "Some P. and O. ship must be just in. These Anglo- 
 Indians won't be much good to us, I'm afraid. They 
 never have any money; or if they have, they know 
 exactly how they mean to spend it. Rich Australians 
 would be more in our line, as pigeons to pluck." 
 
 "I see two who look as if they were made for us," 
 Marie whispered back to him. Her eyes had been 
 quicker than his, but some suggestion or glance of 
 hers telegraphed him the right direction to look, and 
 I followed his example. Just round the shoulder of 
 my tonneau stood a tall old man who was less afraid 
 of betraying an open interest in a stranger's automo- 
 bile than the self-satisfied, well-groomed Anglo-Indian 
 men and women. He was not at all self-satisfied, 
 nor was he particularly well-groomed, but he looked 
 rich ; and so did the youngish, smartly dressed woman 
 who sat by the tea-table from which he had just risen. 
 
 He had a shock of white hair, a fat, red face, coarse 
 hands, and a big lumbering body, with which he did 
 not seem to know what to do. The least experienced
 
 Champion 
 
 automobile would have known at first glance that he 
 was not a gentleman, and to a motor brought up as I 
 had been his vulgarity was offensive. Still, he had a 
 good-natured expression, and so had his wife, though 
 hers was mingled with silliness; and I felt sorry for 
 the pair, somehow, they seemed so isolated from the 
 rest, and uncomfortably conscious of their isolation. 
 
 "That's a fine car a car that is a car," the vulgar 
 old man remarked audibly to his wife; and even the 
 Anglo-Indians deigned to look approving. Several 
 servants in the hotel livery darted to help the chauf- 
 feur unload. the luggage; the landlord came out, fol- 
 lowed by a young manager, both bowing and rubbing 
 their hands. Altogether I began to understand ex- 
 actly what Fanning had meant when he assured Marie 
 that there was no more certain way of inspiring con- 
 fidence and obtaining respect another word for credit 
 than touring in a handsome automobile. 
 
 Their highnesses were expected, it appeared, for 
 the maid Therese had arrived in advance, and had 
 taken a suite in their name. People allowed them- 
 selves to warm up to increasing interest, which showed 
 through their reserve, as they learned that the new- 
 comers were a Prince and Princess, but my owners did 
 not put on any grand airs. They were so gracious to 
 the landlord and his servants, speaking sometimes in 
 French, sometimes in English, that the "pigeon" was 
 
 203
 
 Champion 
 
 encouraged to hop up and offer himself for the 
 plucking. 
 
 "Nice motor-car you have there, sir," he ventured, 
 looking me up and down, edging so close that he could 
 have touched me with one of the big sledge-hammers 
 that were his hands. 
 
 The others all threw toward him a glance of scorn 
 for thus putting himself forward, but he was so eager 
 to enter into conversation with a real Prince that he 
 was not disturbed by their disapproval. 
 
 "I am flattered that you should admire it," said his 
 highness in English, which he artistically adorned 
 with a slight foreign accent. 
 
 Seeing that her husband was not going to be 
 snubbed, the stout young woman rose and sidled 
 nearer to me. "I never saw one as handsome, any- 
 where, did you, Jos Reginald?" 
 
 If there could be one name less suited than any other 
 to the red-faced old giant it was the name of Regi- 
 nald; and I thought he answered to it sheepishly, as 
 if he were no more at home with it than with the big 
 seals that he constantly fingered on his elaborate gold 
 watch-chain. 
 
 "I never did," said he. "Would you think it a lib- 
 erty, sir, if I should ask you the make, and whether 
 it can be got in this part of the country? For, as a 
 
 matter of fact, my wife has been pestering me to buy 
 
 203
 
 Champion 
 
 her a motor-car of some sort, as soon as we landed, 
 and I should be happy to find the twin of this." 
 
 "It is of Russian make," lied my Prince glibly. 
 "But no doubt you could order one if you did not 
 mind a little delay. Meanwhile, as Madame is kind 
 enough to fancy mine, we shall be pleased, before we 
 leave to-morrow, to offer you both a little run." 
 
 "Goodness! you are kind!" exclaimed the stout 
 young woman, turning peony-red with joy. "Regi- 
 nald, why don't you thank the Prince?" 
 
 She brought out the last word in a loud voice, so 
 that, if any of those stiff Anglo-Indians had failed 
 to catch the title, they might hear it now. 
 
 Poor creature, she was probably thinking that if a 
 Prince and Princess were so polite to her and her 
 husband at first sight, they could not, after all, be such 
 outsiders as their shipmates' manner had forced them 
 to believe. 
 
 "I do thank you sincerely, in the name of my wife 
 and myself, and we accept with distinguished pleas- 
 ure," responded the old man, as if he were reading 
 aloud a written answer to an invitation. 
 
 "We will arrange the little excursion later, then," 
 said the Prince, with careless pleasantness. The two 
 ladies bowed to each other; and their highnesses then 
 went into the house, leaving the chauffeur to attend
 
 Champion 
 
 He took me to a garage which belonged to the hotel, 
 and so far as fine touring cars were concerned I had 
 the place practically to myself, but there was an an- 
 tiquated little motor of a modest twelve horse-power, 
 which was the property of the landlord, and I learned 
 from her that there was not much doing in our way 
 at Marseilles. Touring motorists seldom stayed the 
 night; and she would have liked to know why I was 
 stopping, but I gave her an evasive answer. 
 
 I was left to myself for the night by my owners, 
 but I had a good cleaning up from the chauffeur, who 
 was visited while he was at work by the French maid. 
 He was a smart-looking young fellow; she was far 
 from a plain girl; and, both being young, naturally 
 they had already discovered an affinity. They began 
 by talking of their master and mistress, in whose title 
 and importance it was clear that, so far, they be- 
 lieved; but when they had exhausted the question of 
 the Prince's probable generosity, the mysterious new- 
 ness and fewness of the Princess' frocks, her singular 
 lack of jewels, the politeness of the landlord, the hand- 
 someness of the suite of rooms engaged, the couple 
 fell to discussing their own affairs. They were hon- 
 est, as far as I could judge, but vastly curious, and 
 eager to save money for the future. "If the ship is 
 sinking," said I to myself, "these rats will be the 
 
 first to leave it." And I wondered how I should be 
 
 205
 
 Champion 
 
 involved when the wreck came as it must come one 
 day. 
 
 Next morning, about nine o'clock, I was taken 
 round to the hotel door by the chauffeur under the 
 direction of his master. In the courtyard reposed the 
 luggage I had carried the day before, but close beside 
 it other luggage equally expensive-looking, if a little 
 more weather-beaten, was neatly piled. To my sur- 
 prise, and somewhat to my resentment, I was loaded 
 up with the whole quantity, most of which was stacked 
 on my roof a structure which I detested as much as a 
 hunchback must detest his hump. 
 
 Then, when all was ready, out came the Prince and 
 Princess, accompanied by the old red giant and his 
 stout young wife. As for the Anglo-Indians, they had 
 disappeared, having no doubt taken train for home; 
 and, though it may have been snobbish, I was not 
 sorry that they should be unable to see me boarded by 
 the common pair, who were not at all the sort of peo- 
 ple my Master had intended me to cart about Europe. 
 
 This time Potin was sitting at his master's feet so 
 that the giant could sit by the Prince in the place next 
 to the driver's seat, and his wife, with the Princess, 
 could have the roomy tonneau to themselves. Therese 
 again went on by train. We were en route for Monte 
 Carlo, and I soon picked up enough scraps of informa- 
 tion from the talk between the two men on the front 
 
 206
 
 Champion 
 
 seat to make out that, instead of taking a short run 
 with us, our guests were going all the way. I put two 
 and two together in my cylinders, and saM to myself 
 that the pair of pigeons must have been enticed with 
 a good deal of judiciously scattered corn during the 
 first evening of their acquaintance. I called up the 
 scene : the Prince and Princess affable and condescend- 
 ing, the pigeons preening themselves in the warmth of 
 their highnesses' graciousness, delightedly displaying 
 the new friendship with which they were honored, 
 under the indifferent eyes of their late shipmates, who 
 had not cared to associate with them. 
 
 Again and again the old man exclaimed at the 
 Prince's goodness in taking them on to Monte Carlo, 
 where they had meant to travel'by train, just to "have 
 a look at the Riviera" before going to England. It 
 was a pleasure, said the Prince. It was the great- 
 est kindness he had ever experienced or was likely to 
 experience, said the pigeon, and he and Emmie would 
 remember it as long as they lived. I thought that in 
 all probability they would, but perhaps not in exactly 
 the way their grateful souls supposed. 
 
 The pigeon's name, I soon discovered, was Ruggles 
 J. R. Ruggles, of some outlandish and unpronounce- 
 able town in Australia. Emmie, his wife, had taken 
 advantage of the middle initial to call him Reginald, 
 
 but I don't think their highnesses believed in that 
 
 207
 
 Champion 
 
 "Reginald" any more than I did. What they did be- 
 lieve in was the Ruggles' money; and there was every 
 sign that it- at least was genuine and plentiful. The 
 Ruggles type is not clever enough to start off on a 
 career as adventurer and adventuress; they are born 
 to be pigeons, and pigeons they will be while they 
 have feathers to pluck. 
 
 Mr. Ruggles confessed his complete ignorance of 
 French and of any other language except English 
 English as it was spoken where he and Emmie came 
 from. He had hesitated to attempt to tour in Europe, 
 but Emmie had given him no peace; and now here 
 they were, very happy so far, and fortunate, it was 
 true; but what would become of them when they had 
 been dropped down at Monte Carlo, and had no longer 
 the wonderful kindness of the Prince and Princess 
 Vasilievna to depend upon, he was hanged if he knew! 
 
 "If we can be of help to you and Madame," said 
 the Prince, "there is no reason why we should part 
 company directly we arrive at Monte Carlo. My wife 
 is English, though she has lived much abroad; and to 
 hear the English language is a joy to her. You are 
 almost the same as English, is it not? Australians 
 are children of the old country. My wife is but a 
 girl; we have not been married long, and it will be a 
 pleasure to her to have the friendship of a lady so 
 
 nearly English. What we can do for you, we will do 
 
 208
 
 Champion 
 
 gladly; a little translating, a few hints, perhaps, as 
 to the customs of the country." 
 
 "I I really don't know how to thank you, Prince," 
 stammered poor Ruggles, "and no more will Emmie. 
 You are almost Royalties, if you aren't quite, and 
 we only plain folk, with nothing to recommend us to 
 such as you for what's our money to princes and 
 princesses, though it may make us somebodies in our 
 own part?" 
 
 "What, indeed?" echoed the Prince airily, as he 
 drove me along the exquisite road. "It is your kind 
 hearts which recommend you to us. Is there not 
 some saying in English as: 'Kind hearts are more 
 than coronets ?' ' 
 
 "Well, only to think of your knowing that, and 
 taking stock of it and you Russian, too!" exclaimed 
 the giant. 
 
 "Russians are human," said the Prince. "And when 
 we feel a kindness for people we do not forget." 
 
 So they went on, paying compliments to each other; 
 and every now and then I caught a few sentences of 
 the ladies' conversation in the tonneau. Little Marie, 
 though too genial in nature for the typical adventuress, 
 was an actress born ; and her stories of her husband's 
 magnificent palace in St. Petersburg, his vast ancestral 
 estates in the country, must have been dazzling enough 
 
 to the nouveau riche Australian woman. 
 
 209
 
 Champion 
 
 "Isn't the Prince the gentleman on whose estates 
 such a splendid lot of oil has just been discovered?" 
 asked the respectful Emmie. "Reginald told me that 
 Vasilievna was the name he'd read in the newspapers 
 something about a company which was just going to 
 be formed?" 
 
 "Yes, that is my husband's estate," replied Marie 
 tranquilly. "There will be a rush for the shares, I 
 believe, though I know very little of business. People 
 will not get all they ask for. But half are my hus- 
 band's; and he will part with a few of his to friends 
 for whom he cares the most ; I know he has promised 
 some to a cousin of mine in England. But I mustn't 
 chatter on like this about such things. He wouldn't 
 wish it. He is very old-fashioned in some of his ideas, 
 and says women should not talk of men's affairs." 
 
 "But you wouldn't mind my just telling Reginald, 
 would you?" asked Mrs. Ruggles. "He has plenty 
 of money ; but he's like other men of affairs, he always 
 wants a chance of making more; and now he'll be 
 dying to buy Vasilievna oil shares the minute they 
 come on the market." 
 
 "Oh, I'm afraid they're oversubscribed, or whatever 
 they call it, already," said the Princess. "But rather 
 than disappoint your husband, I will speak to mine, and 
 beg him to let Mr. Ruggles have a few of his shares. 
 
 You are not old friends, to be sure; but you are the 
 
 210
 
 Champion 
 
 first friends we have made since we came into France, 
 and I am sentimental about such things." 
 
 At this I gave a little snort, which made the Prince 
 think that something was wrong with my silencer; 
 but I controlled myself instantly, and glided on. 
 
 Now I began to see their highnesses' game. There 
 was no longer any mystery as to their choice of a title. 
 Paul Fanning was the sort of man who, once em- 
 barked on a scheme, would carry it off bravely; and 
 probably he had reminded himself that the boldest 
 course is often the safest. Evidently there was a 
 Prince Vasilievna, living, perhaps, in such a remote 
 corner of Russia that it was not likely he would be 
 personally known by his few pleasure-seeking country- 
 men still lingering on the Riviera. And the name 
 was to be a source of revenue to the pair who had an- 
 nexed it. These Australian pigeons would not be the 
 only ones to be plucked, I prophesied, nor would others 
 be long in following their example. I told myself that 
 I should not be surprised if the generous Prince proved 
 willing to spare a great many of his own shares in the 
 oil company to friends of his. 
 
 I was ashamed to be a partner, even a silent partner, 
 in such a scheme as this that was opening out before 
 me; but, bad as it was, I preferred being mixed up 
 in it to the fate I should have suffered in the hands of 
 Barr-Simons. I could not help being a little excited, 
 
 211
 
 Champion 
 
 too, as to what would come next ; and magically lovely 
 as the country was far more enchanting than any- 
 thing I had seen I let some of the best features of 
 the fairylike landscape pass almost unnoticed, while I 
 thought my own thoughts, and listened alternately to 
 the talk of the two men on the front seat, and the two 
 women in the tonneau. 
 
 By the time we had got as far as Cannes, the hotel 
 at Monte Carlo, where the four would stop together, 
 had been settled upon; and among the many kind 
 things the Pfince and Princess had promised to do 
 for Mr. and Mrs. Ruggles was to help them choose 
 some jewels. The dear Princess was so surprised to 
 hear that Mrs. Ruggles had as yet no tiara and no 
 rope of pearls not even a diamond dog-collar! that 
 the poor lady decided not an hour must be lost before 
 she supplied herself with the articles in question, 
 which, if not exactly necessaries of life, appeared to 
 be necessaries of high life. 
 
 She had, she explained apologetically, only been 
 waiting until she arrived at a place where one could 
 make the best selection; she had thought of Paris, a 
 few weeks later. But when the Princess spoke of the 
 operas at Monte Carlo, where one must vie with the 
 crowned heads of Europe, Mrs. Ruggles saw at once 
 that there was not an hour to lose in fitting herself 
 
 out for the brilliant contest. 
 
 212
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 / Am Dragged into Strange Schemes. 
 
 If it could afford any consolation to me, at least I 
 was seeing the world ; and many a motor would, I sup- 
 pose, gladly have been in my tires. 
 
 I found Monte Carlo even more dazzling than I had 
 expected from the stories I overheard the Prince tell- 
 ing Mr. Ruggles. Perhaps if I could have got into the 
 Casino, which, judging from the talk, seemed to be 
 the center of interest there, I might have been even 
 more impressed ; but, though I saw, as we passed, that 
 I could easily have mounted the gradient of the front 
 steps, I should have stuck in the door. I had to be 
 satisfied with the garage, to which Potin drove me 
 when the passengers had been deposited at a fine hotel, 
 entered through a beautiful garden of palms and 
 climbing roses. It was by far the grandest garage I 
 had seen yet, and the cars it housed were of the most 
 aristocratic rank, hardly one without a crown on its 
 panels, or at worst a coat of arms. Perhaps I should 
 have been a little jealous of one or two of the most 
 magnificent, if I had not been deeply conscious of 
 my real, inward worth, far beyond their meretricious 
 
 attractions if only they had known. 
 
 213
 
 Champion 
 
 But they did not know, and such cars as had been 
 undisputed rulers of the garage until I arrived, were 
 inclined to be standoffish. They glared at me with 
 their big lamps as much as to say "Who is he?" But 
 I bore a Prince's coronet trust Paul Fanning for 
 such details and when to a question, I answered that 
 I was of ninety horse-power, it was seen that there 
 could no longer be an excuse for superciliousness, 
 whether I were to be admitted into the garage circle 
 on friendly terms or not. 
 
 I was not taken out again on the day of our arrival ; 
 and that night, when even the latest-working mechanic 
 had gone away, there was a good deal of talk among 
 the automobiles who had known each other longest, 
 and much exchange of confidences. Their masters 
 and chauffeurs would have been astonished, I am sure, 
 if they could have heard what their motors really 
 thought of them. According to these critical cars, 
 there was scarcely one good driver among the lot, and 
 many complained of severe pains in their gear-boxes, 
 due to careless changing. One, standing next to me 
 a very fine-bodied automobile, of considerable power 
 and esprit assured his best friend, an elderly but 
 gentlemanlike German car, that as two of his teeth had 
 been broken that very day, he didn't see how he could 
 possibly run to-morrow. 
 
 The belle of the garage was a beautiful Mercedes, so 
 
 214
 
 Champion 
 
 young that she need fear comparison with no other 
 automobile even of the newest fashion. But, like most 
 feminine cars, she was a gossip, and consoled herself 
 for the reputation she had to keep up for silence while 
 running, by carburating some bit of scandal or other 
 for every minute that the more serious cars would 
 listen to her. It was wonderful how much knowledge 
 of her owner's affairs Mercedes had contrived to 
 pick up while running them about; and if I had not 
 lately been painted a rich crimson color, I should have 
 turned red of my own volition at some of the anecdotes 
 she related. 
 
 When she had told everything she could think of 
 about her people and herself, this smart car deigned 
 to take notice of me. 
 
 "Your shade goes nicely with mine," said she, "bet- 
 ter than that of any Body here. That crimson of 
 yours is exactly the thing to set off my dark green. I 
 shall run in next to you to-morrow if you'll contrive 
 to be in the same place; or, if I get in first, you must 
 shove yourself in close to me. If you have the right 
 way with your chauffeur, you can easily make him 
 think he's doing it himself. That's my trick to man- 
 age mine. What is your make, pray? I'm sure, by 
 your appearance, it must be something good. I have 
 some very nice cousins, F.I.A.T.'s; perhaps we shall 
 find out that we're distantly related, or, at least, that 
 
 2I 5
 
 Champion 
 
 some of the same petrol runs through our tanks. Any- 
 how, we are certain to discover that we have mutual 
 friends, if you will tell me all about yourself." 
 
 This was the last thing I wished to do with such 
 an auto-cat; and I answered with a discreet blending 
 of politeness and evasiveness. I could not let myself 
 be looked down upon by my companions, who fancied 
 themselves so extremely exclusive; therefore, I hinted 
 that I was of a make so new, that in their experience 
 as touring cars my fame could hardly yet have reached 
 their valves, though it was likely to do so soon. I 
 added that my owner was a person of importance in 
 the automobile world. (That was true indeed, if he 
 still lived, my poor Hugh!) and that my adventures, 
 if related, would surprise any car. I could not, how- 
 ever, speak of them, owing to private reasons. 
 
 "One thing I should like to know, before perhaps 
 letting my acquaintance with you ripen into friend- 
 ship," said Mercedes, "and that is: whether you are 
 really air-cooled ? I've always wanted to meet an air- 
 cooler, and there are those here who believe you to 
 be one." 
 
 I admitted that they were right, and Mercedes 
 seemed inclined to think the more highly of me. But 
 a big car from Paris which had been her favorite till 
 I came in, grumbled to his own engine. "Pooh, I can't 
 
 think why the makers aren't satisfied with us as we 
 
 216
 
 Champion 
 
 are," he whiffled ; "air-cooling, indeed ! it never has suc- 
 ceeded and never will. What's the automobile world 
 coming to in these days of experiments with queer- 
 looking spring-wheels, and all sorts of radical horrors? 
 Give me a good honeycomb radiator and pneumatics, 
 say I, with a gear-driven pump and a litre or two of 
 water; I don't ask more." 
 
 Evidently I was expected to retort; and if I had 
 there might have been a collision next day; but, after 
 all I had gone through, such squabbling for the sake 
 of petty jealousy seemed infinitely trivial, and I did 
 not even trouble myself to answer. Indeed, I pre- 
 tended to have gone to sleep in the midst of his speech ; 
 and presently all the other motors most of whom 
 felt the need of resting for the morrow followed my 
 example. 
 
 Potin was evidently anxious to please the Prince, 
 his master, for he appeared early at the garage on the 
 morning after our arrival at Monte Carlo. He was 
 happy, whistling as he worked maybe he would whis- 
 tle for his money, by and by ! prying conscientiously 
 about for dirt and grit, visiting every crevice and cor- 
 ner with a velvety piece of new chamois leather, filling 
 up my tank with cool petrol, strained through a deli- 
 cate sieve, and stuffing my gear-box with the best 
 quality of grease, suitable to the car of a touring 
 
 prince. He drew off from my crank-chamber all the 
 
 217
 
 Champion 
 
 dirty oil that had accumulated there and would have 
 spoiled my temper for the day, if it had been left, and 
 soothed my feelings with a generous supply of the 
 finest lubricating-oil such as I had begun to look for 
 when I saw the tins, and to be discontented if I didn't 
 get. As far as treatment was concerned, apparently 
 I was not to have much to complain of. Adventurer 
 as my new owner was, he was not bad enough to ex- 
 pect a car to do its best when whirling its crank-head 
 round in a mess of gritty oil, dashing the stuff up into 
 the cylinders, scoring their surfaces, perhaps, and los- 
 ing compression. I was grateful to him for that; and 
 I said to myself, "After all, it isn't my business if my 
 oil and petrol, or even my chauffeur's work, is never 
 paid for." 
 
 When Potin had overhauled me thoroughly there 
 certainly was not as smart-looking a car in the big 
 garage; and, though I myself objected to my changed 
 appearance, there was some slight solace in finding it 
 superior to that of others others who thought them- 
 selves perfection. Just as Potin had set my motor 
 going, and I had begun to purr with a sense of physical 
 well-being which triumphed momentarily over gloomy 
 memories, the Princess' maid appeared, looking pi- 
 quant and attractive. 
 
 She had been sent out on an errand, it appeared to 
 
 buy some gloves of a certain shade for her mistress 
 
 218
 
 Champion 
 
 and, as it was scarcely out of the way, she had 
 dropped in at the garage to say good morning to Mon- 
 sieur Potin. 
 
 "You were not at breakfast, poor young man!" she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "No," said he, "the car was wanted early. I 
 wouldn't let her go out in an unworthy condition. I 
 have my pride, as you have. Would you not be 
 ashamed to recognize Madame in the street, if you 
 hadn't done her hair properly ? Eh bien, it is the same 
 thing." 
 
 Therese chuckled at this, and pinched Potin's arm, 
 whereupon Potin pulled her ear; and I saw that their 
 friendship had grown a good deal in the last twenty- 
 four hours. Therese told him of a breakfast conver- 
 sation she had had with the maid of a certain Austrian 
 Countess and the valet of the Count. Evidently all 
 had made acquaintance the night before, at dinner, 
 perhaps, and Potin did not seem surprised to hear that 
 the new friends wished to have a spin with "his car." 
 
 "Say that I will take her and her fiance the first 
 day that we have this happy combination; Monsieur 
 le Prince not wishing to go out, and Madame la Prin- 
 cesse not needing the services of Mademoiselle The- 
 rese," replied Potin gallantly. And I realized that, 
 good chauffeur as he might be, he was not above de- 
 ceiving his master. This mattered little to me, how- 
 
 219
 
 Champion 
 
 ever. I had none of the loyalty for Fanning that I 
 had for my one true Master, and I did not worry my 
 crank-head about any tricks that might be played 
 upon him. 
 
 Therese did not stop more than five minutes, as she 
 dared not keep her mistress waiting too long for the 
 gloves. Potin promised to give her time for her er- 
 rand before he arrived with me at the hotel; and, true 
 to his word, Therese was just hurrying in at the door 
 when we drew up before it, with a magnificent curve. 
 Early as it still was, the Prince and Princess must have 
 been in the great hall, for almost immediately they 
 came out, very well dressed and prosperous-looking, 
 the Princess drawing on the pale gray gloves her maid 
 had just brought in. 
 
 She sat with her husband on the front seat, Potin 
 relegated to the tonneau, and they talked together in 
 English, a language of which they had already care- 
 fully ascertained that the chauffeur knew not one 
 word. 
 
 "We must hurry with our errands," said Fanning, 
 "or the Ruggles will be down. I don't want them to 
 know we've been out to the shops together before 
 taking them." 
 
 "The shopkeepers may give us away," answered 
 Marie. 
 
 "Not they. I'll see to that. They'll recognize me 
 220
 
 Champion 
 
 with a bow, of course, but it will seem that they re- 
 member me from another season, when I was here en 
 garcon. As for you, you will not go into any of the 
 jewelers with me this morning. I will drop you at 
 the milliner's and call for you afterward." 
 
 "We needn't have waited for the car. We could 
 have walked, and started earlier," said Marie. 
 
 "My child! You're still an amateur. Don't you 
 understand that the shopkeepers must see the car? 
 It's our principal stock-in-trade our background. A 
 yacht would be better a yacht anchored in the Bay 
 of Hercules. We'd give parties on board ; royal high- 
 nesses and dukes would come to tea every day. But 
 never mind that's the next item on our program. 
 We must make the best of what we have for the pres- 
 ent ; and it strikes me we aren't beginning badly. Now, 
 what do you say to this Magasin de Confections? Is 
 it smart enough for you?" 
 
 "Oh, what divine hats and dresses !" breathed Marie. 
 
 Her Prince brought me to a standstill in front of a 
 shop whose windows were attractive enough to dazzle 
 a real Princess. 
 
 "Order a hat," said Fanning, as Potin got down to 
 help the Princess to descend. "Tell them to send 
 round a lot of things to the hotel for you to try on 
 afterward things you think Mrs. Ruggles would like. 
 
 Say you want a friend to see some of them as well as 
 
 221
 
 Champion 
 
 yourself. Make Mrs. Ruggles fit herself out from this 
 shop, and after that they'll be only too thankful to you 
 for running up as big a bill as you please. If you 
 should happen to forget to pay when you go, you 
 needn't worry; the Ruggles' purchases will have more 
 than recouped them; places like this always charge 
 treble prices, so the people who do pay, pay for those 
 who don't." 
 
 Marie disappeared behind a glass door which was 
 obsequiously opened for her, and we went on, across 
 the big Place in front of the Casino. There we drew 
 up again in front of a shop like a palace of glass, 
 blazing with gems; tiaras; crowns; stomachers; belts 
 of brilliants; life-size diamond snakes with ruby or 
 emerald heads; bags, big and little, of gold netting 
 fringed and patterned with jewels, or shaped like 
 owls, or rabbits, with precious stones for eyes; cases 
 of rings; ropes of pearl; collar and necklaces like shim- 
 mering rivers of electric light. It was a wonderful 
 show, and must mean countless thousands of pounds. 
 My cylinders grew a little hotter than they ought to 
 have been as I wondered how many thousands of those 
 pounds I should be forced to carry away. Built as 
 I had been for honor and not for shame, I felt that, 
 if my real Master passed me now, I should drop to 
 pieces with mortification. 
 
 At sight of a client driving up in a fine car thus late 
 
 222
 
 HE ACCOMPANIED HIS CLIENT ... TO THE EDGE OF THE 
 PAVEMENT." 
 
 (/. 223.)
 
 Champion 
 
 in the season, the unwary proprietor rushed to open 
 the door. The Prince walked in with an air, Potin 
 standing cap in hand, as the servant of so grand a 
 personage should do. 
 
 Soon, I saw a hand selecting jewels from the win- 
 dow; a splendid diamond necklace, and a two-yard- 
 long rope of huge glistening pearls were withdrawn. 
 Later a case of rings followed; a gold bag; three or 
 four jeweled bangles, and a dog-collar of brilliants. 
 
 "Is the shopman going to be such a fool as to let 
 a stranger walk off with his things, just because he 
 happens to have a big, red motor-car and a smart 
 chauffeur?" I wondered in contemptuous pity. But, 
 whatever the Prince's game was, I had not fathomed 
 it yet. He came out presently without the jewels ; yet 
 the shopkeeper seemed far from disappointed. He 
 accompanied his client not only to the door, but to the 
 edge of the oavement, thanking him profusely for his 
 "kind promises." 
 
 "Just keep those things until I can bring the Princess 
 in to see them, or until she is going to be at home, and 
 I can have them sent round," said Fanning, "privately, 
 you know. I don't want my Australian friends to 
 think me selfish, in coming to take the pick of your 
 windows for my wife, before they have a chance to 
 look in; still, one naturally desires the pleasure of one's 
 
 own wife before that of other women." 
 
 223
 
 Champion 
 
 "But certainly, Monsieur le Prince. The jewels I 
 have laid aside will not be spoken of or shown when 
 you are so gracious to my establishment as to bring 
 your friends. I was most stupid not to have remem- 
 bered your highness at first sight from two seasons 
 ago you say it was? but it is only the fault of my 
 poor eyes, which are not so strong." 
 
 Now I began to see into the mystery, and to respect 
 my owner's cleverness as I respected no other of his 
 qualities! We turned grandly from the door and 
 presently stopped before another magnificent jewelry 
 shop, two streets farther away. 
 
 There the same thing happened; beautiful things 
 were withdrawn from the window, the proprietor 
 followed his noble customer out, and almost the very 
 words of his predecessor were repeated. 
 
 "Le chcr Prince isn't going to trust all his eggs to 
 one basket," I said to myself, recalling a proverb I 
 had heard the miserable Arnaud quote in old days. 
 
 After this second visit, we returned to the milliner's 
 where we had left our Princess ; and, though we must 
 have been gone some time, she did not appear impa- 
 tient. She was enraptured with what she had seen, 
 and said that half a dozen "perfectly adorable" hats, 
 blouses, and frocks were to be sent over for her and 
 Mrs. Ruggles to select from, in the afternoon. 
 
 "That's all right," chuckled Fanning. "She'll take 
 
 224
 
 Champion 
 
 anything you tell her is becoming she has no taste 
 of her own, and any amount of confidence in yours; 
 aren't you a Princess? My affairs marched well, too 
 exactly as we planned, or better. I tell you we're 
 going to make a big haul soon or break in the at- 
 tempt. But we won't break not yet, anyhow. We 
 have la veine with us, and it's going to last a while 
 I feel it. Are you happy, little woman?" 
 
 "Awfully!" cried Marie, "in a wild, desperate way, 
 as if I'd been drinking too much champagne." 
 
 "Anyhow, champagne's better than the dark river, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Oh, don't speak of it. I've only to think of that, 
 to be half-mad with enjoyment of everything. This is 
 life life life!" 
 
 And then, we were turning in among the palms and 
 roses of the hotel garden. The Prince and Princess 
 went in, and Potin stood waiting. Once, he looked 
 at his watch, and I was able to see that it was only a 
 few minutes past ten early still, especially for Monte 
 Carlo. Half an hour passed, and once more my new 
 owner and his bride appeared, this time bringing with 
 them the Ruggles. 
 
 I supposed that we were now bound for a return 
 visit to the jewelers; but not at all. We were going 
 for a simple, innocent drive, and no doubt the Austra- 
 lians were more tha,n pleased to show themselves to the 
 
 225
 
 Champion 
 
 gay world in such distinguished society. In a few 
 minutes we had flashed to Cap Martin, and on to the 
 pretty little town of Mentone set in its half-ring of 
 mountains; then back again along the curving white 
 road to Monte Carlo. 
 
 "Now you've had an airing, would you like to shop 
 for an hour, before finishing up the morning with a 
 stroll through the Casino?" asked the Prince of his 
 guests. 
 
 Of course they were delighted, as they would have 
 been with any proposal of his highness! 
 
 "What about the diamonds I heard my wife say you 
 were wanting to choose?" he suggested to Mrs. .Rug- 
 gles. "Perhaps I flatter myself too much, but I do 
 think I am something of a connoisseur in the matter 
 of pearls and diamonds, perhaps of emeralds and 
 rubies as well; I don't say of anything else, though 
 my eye for sapphires isn't bad. Still, there are my 
 specialties; and, at least, I've had some experience. 
 My mother was one of the greatest buyers of her day, 
 and I chose everything for her. If you would care 
 for my help in selecting but, perhaps, Mr. Ruggles 
 knows as much as I do or more?" 
 
 The infatuated husband and wife protested loudly. 
 Both were as ignorant of such matters as babies; but, 
 said Mr. Ruggles, they wanted the best, and plenty of 
 
 it, for they could afford to have it. And what they 
 
 226
 
 Champion 
 
 wanted most was for their dear, kind Prince and 
 Princess to choose for them. 
 
 "My wife is a child. She knows nothing of jewels, 
 but she has taste in their arrangement," said the Prince 
 loftily. "For herself, she does not need to buy unless 
 she fancies some novelty. She has my family heir- 
 looms, or will have them. I do not let her travel about 
 with the Vasilievna jewels. Here, Mr. Ruggles, is 
 one of the two best shops in Monte Carlo; afterward 
 I will take you to the other." 
 
 The pair of birds hopped into the big glass cage 
 as tamely as if they had salt on their tails. This time, 
 my position in front of the shop was rather more ad- 
 vantageous, and I could see what was going on inside. 
 I saw the Princess and Mrs. Ruggles bending in ad- 
 miration over the counter, while the Prince pointed out 
 this or that, or pushed some jewel aside. A long 
 string of diamonds was looped across the Australian 
 lady's ample bosom, a flexible tiara was held against 
 her hair. She pulled off her gloves and squeezed 
 over her fat ringers, already loaded with ugly but ex- 
 pensive stones, new and beautiful rings praised by the 
 Prince. At last Mr. Ruggles was called into consulta- 
 tion; out from his pocket came a stout wallet of 
 leather, and out of the wallet came a thick sheaf of 
 notes. 
 
 The party were in the shop almost long enough to 
 
 227
 
 Champion 
 
 buy half its contents, it seemed; but at last they fin- 
 ished and came to me, followed by a young employee 
 carrying a large box wrapped in white paper. In this, 
 no doubt, were the jewel-cases, which Mrs. Ruggles 
 was childishly anxious to bring away with her im- 
 mediately. 
 
 "Now, when we come to the place where I'm going 
 to take you next," explained the Prince, "you will un- 
 derstand why I said nothing about pearls in this shop. 
 Of course, no woman's jewel-box is complete now- 
 adays without a really perfect string of pearls, even 
 if she does not care for a rope to wear when en grande 
 toilette. The string you have at present is striking, 
 but if you allow me to say so I think you owe it to 
 yourself to have another more evenly matched in shape 
 and color." 
 
 Again the birds were caged, and judging from 
 what I heard when they returned to me must have 
 picked up pearls like so many canary-seeds. 
 
 By this time, the Princess decided, it was too late 
 for the Casino before luncheon. She was, she said, a 
 little tired, but when the Australian millionaire in- 
 vited the Prince to name the most fashionable restau- 
 rant in Monte Carlo, and to lunch there at his expense, 
 she brightened. 
 
 "I would suggest Giro's, and a table on the terrace," 
 replied the Prince airily. No doubt his plan was car- 
 
 228
 
 Champion 
 
 ried out; but as the party had first to go back to the 
 hotel to dispose of the valuable new purchases, and 
 I was sent to the garage, I had no further personal 
 knowledge of their movements for several hours. 
 
 In the cool of the afternoon, however, I was taken 
 out again for a run up to La Turbie. This time there 
 was a third guest, an anemic but rich-looking young 
 man, who had evidently been selected as another likely 
 victim. I won much praise by the manner in which 
 I took the hills which had to be climbed, and turned 
 the sharp corners. My passengers had tea, and I had 
 petrol at La Turbie ; and during the run down most of 
 the talk was of the oil-wells on Prince Vasilievna's 
 estates in Russia! 
 
 "My gentleman isn't wasting any of his opportuni- 
 ties," I said to myself, and, really, his maneuvers were 
 clever. He did not seem at all eager to let these new 
 friends of his into the good thing which he had in his 
 hand. They were so anxious for a chance, however, 
 that finding hints useless, the new man whose name 
 was Boyle-Smythe and Ruggles begged that the 
 Prince would, if he were disposing of any among his 
 own shares, give them the first opportunity to become 
 buyers. At last he said that he would do so, and the 
 Princess laughingly exclaimed that it was like the good 
 nature for which she had married him. 
 
 Next day, when Potin was getting me ready to go 
 229
 
 Champion 
 
 out, about ten o'clock in the morning, the Prince 
 walked into the garage. I noticed, the instant I caught 
 sight of him, that he was pale, with a feverish bright- 
 ness of the eyes. 
 
 "You needn't come with me this morning, Potin," 
 said he; and, though he spoke in a low tone which 
 tried to be calm, his voice was not as steady as usual. 
 "I want the car only for a short run," he went on, 
 "and, as I may pick up a party of friends whom I've 
 half-promised to take out, it will be a convenience to 
 have one more place." 
 
 "Tres bien, Monsieur," replied the chauffeur, happy 
 in the thought of a holiday, and entirely unsuspicious. 
 But in my cylinders hummed the question: "Is the 
 game up already?" 
 
 I expected to be taken to the hotel for Marie, when 
 she did not arrive at the garage before the start; but 
 Fanning drove me past the entrance to the garden, 
 straight ahead up the hill, turning to the right into 
 the Boulevard des Moulins. Then, when we had 
 gone on for a short distance, I was put round another 
 turn and bidden to mount a steep gradient. We had 
 passed out of the gay and beautiful part of Monte 
 Carlo, the part best known to pleasure-seekers, and I 
 began to wonder if it were possible that the man meant 
 to give his young wife the slip. Somehow, I could not 
 
 believe that of him, bad as he was ; but the expedition 
 
 230
 
 Champion 
 
 was certainly mysterious, and I could have told by the 
 touch of his hand on my steering-wheel, even if I 
 hadn't known before, that he was deeply agitated. 
 
 Suddenly Fanning slowed me down; and, stopping 
 at a turn of the road, he said to a cloaked and veiled 
 woman, who stood as if waiting: "Well well?" 
 
 "It's all right," answered the voice of Marie, though 
 the figure did not look like Marie's; and I puffed out 
 a petrolic sigh of relief; for I had a sneaking weak- 
 ness for the little woman, and I would have burst my 
 tires sooner than desert her. 
 
 "Get in," said Fanning, "and tell me all about it. 
 I'll drive round a bit, out of the way of people. First 
 ' how much did they give you on the jewels?" 
 
 "Exactly a thousand pounds," answered the girl, 
 on the seat beside him now. "They wanted me to take 
 eight hundred, but I wouldn't. Then I kept screwing 
 them up, till finally I got the thousand; and I'd been 
 so long bargaining that I didn't dare try for anything 
 better, though I know you expected at least a hundred 
 pounds more." 
 
 "You've done very well, my little pigeon," said Fan- 
 ning. 
 
 "I didn't know that going to a pawn-shop could be 
 so horrid," groaned Marie. "They weren't rude ex- 
 actly, but they looked at me in such a hateful way, 
 and they were so nonchalant. I was glad I had a veil. 
 
 231
 
 Champion 
 
 But in spite of it, and this cloak that nobody here has 
 seen, I was in the most dreadful fright. I thought, 
 what if the jewelers suspected us, and had detect- 
 ives in their pay who had followed me over the fron- 
 tier to the pawn-shop ? I expected every minute to be 
 arrested." 
 
 "Poor, little silly child, it's a shame you had to suf- 
 fer all that torture," said Fanning kindly. "But I 
 couldn't see you through it. You had to do the thing 
 by yourself, just as I've got to do what comes next by 
 myself. You're supposed to be shut up in your room 
 with a cold, amusing yourself by examining the jewels 
 which our grateful and trusting friends have sent for 
 the Princess Vasilievna to select from. It's all right 
 if I'm seen I've nothing to do with it. I told both 
 the jeweler chaps that I didn't want to influence your 
 choice I should keep out of the way till you had 
 decided." 
 
 "If they should see us now !" she breathed. 
 
 "They won't. But if they did, they'd think only 
 that the Prince was taking a strange lady out for a 
 drive, while the poor little Princess kept her bed with 
 a cold. You look twice the Princess' size !" 
 
 "I'm so thankful. I slipped out of the hotel very 
 cleverly. Therese thinks I have some secret from 
 you; I wanted her to think it that sort of thing ap- 
 peals to a Frenchwoman ; and I gave her a blouse as a 
 
 232
 
 Champion 
 
 bribe to help me. Oh, if those jeweler men knew 
 that instead of selecting which of their things I should 
 buy, I'd pawned every one of them!" 
 
 "It's only for a few hours. We have all time to 
 play with. Both men understand that they're not to 
 send for the jewels till one o'clock. Meanwhile ' 
 
 "Meanwhile! Ah, that's the awful part! // you 
 fail?" 
 
 "I sha'n't fail. I feel that luck is going to stand 
 by my side at the Casino to-day, and tell me what to 
 back. Give me the money, dear, and then trot home to 
 the hotel." 
 
 233
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 I Am Initiated into Certain Mysteries. 
 
 Marie was on the point of crying. "Go home!" she 
 echoed. "I couldn't bear the suspense. I should die, 
 left alone between four walls, while you were making 
 our fortune or wrecking it. Can't I go with you to 
 the Casino?" 
 
 "Not possible. 'They wouldn't let you into the 
 rooms veiled like that; and you know very well that 
 the Princess Vasilievna is at home, choosing some 
 jewels." 
 
 "Therese wouldn't give me away if any one in- 
 quired. She'd say I was sleeping off a headache and 
 couldn't be disturbed." 
 
 "You musn't be seen, anyhow. I'm going to take 
 the car round to the garage, and then " 
 
 "If I can't be with you, for goodness' sake let Potin 
 drive me about and keep me going, every instant, in 
 the open air, till you're ready to come out. Then we'll 
 call for you." 
 
 "Very well. In half an hour our fates will be de- 
 cided. I'm going to gamble for our whole future, my 
 girl. Thirty minutes will be enough to make us or 
 lose us." 
 
 234
 
 Champion 
 
 "In half an hour after you enter the Casino doors, 
 then, Potin and I will be back with the car." Marie's 
 voice was hoarse. She had to moisten her lips to 
 speak clearly. 
 
 Fanning must have known that, as he had given 
 Potin leave, the chauffeur was more than likely to be 
 away. Probably he wished to save himself the pain 
 of refusing Marie; but, as luck would have it, we 
 found Potin still at the garage, talking eagerly to an 
 English chauffeur, with whom he had struck up a 
 friendship since yesterday evening. The Englishman 
 could speak enough French to exchange ideas with 
 Potin, and Potin could help him with some of the 
 technical words connected with motoring, of which he 
 was ignorant. 
 
 My chauffeur was not too pleased, evidently, at hav- 
 ing me thrown back on his hands so quickly. Prob- 
 ably he cursed himself for not leaving the garage as 
 soon as my back was turned; but it was now too late 
 for regrets, and with a good enough grace he obeyed 
 his orders to take Madame la Princesse out for a short 
 spin. 
 
 They dropped the Prince at the Casino, and poor 
 Marie looked after him wistfully, as her husband 
 disappeared into the wide, open doorway; but he did 
 not turn. He walked straight in, with head erect, and 
 his shoulders thrown back. 
 
 235
 
 Champion 
 
 "Drive me to Monaco," said Marie, "and wait at 
 the Cathedral. I wish to go in for a moment." 
 
 Potin did as he was told, and stopped under the 
 steps of the Cathedral. Marie went up slowly, as if 
 she could hardly control her limbs, and her veiled head 
 was drooping. She was a selfish little adventuress, 
 preying upon the world, and her hopes for the future 
 were founded upon cheating others; yet I should not 
 be surprised if she spent her time in the Cathedral 
 praying for Fanning's success at the Casino, praying 
 hard, without realizing that she and her prayers were 
 alike incongruous. 
 
 She was not gone more than ten minutes, and the 
 half-hour was not nearly up yet; but she was too rest- 
 less to keep away from the Casino longer. She told 
 Potin to take her down quickly to the Place, lest the 
 Prince should come out and be waiting. 
 
 I bowled them along gaily, for I had my own curi- 
 osity; but when we arrived before the Casino door 
 Fanning was not to be seen; and presently we were 
 obliged to move on and make room for a dusty old 
 automobile that would not have dared to address me 
 of its own accord. 
 
 Potin drew me up in front of the Hotel de Paris; 
 and if the minutes which passed before Fanning came 
 out of the Casino seemed long to me, they must have 
 seemed doubly so to Marie. She moved about in her 
 
 236
 
 Champion 
 
 seat and sighed, starting every time a man in a gray 
 suit could be seen in the doorway across the Place. 
 Then, at last, he appeared running down the steps, 
 walking fast toward me, his face as white as if it 
 had been chalked, and his eyes as bright as if he were 
 burning up with fever. Whatever had happened, how- 
 ever the luck had gone, it was plain that he was keyed 
 to the highest pitch of excitement. I could not guess 
 from his face whether he had won, or whether he was 
 hurrying to say that not an instant must be lost in get- 
 ting outside the Principality. 
 
 Marie could not speak, but sat still, her face turned 
 toward him. 
 
 "Keep your seat, Potin," said the Prince, moisten- 
 ing his lips. "I want you to drive." He opened the 
 door of the tonneau, and Marie, whisking out of her 
 place on to the front seat, flashed in behind, that she 
 might be by her husband's side and learn her fate 
 without delay. 
 
 "Where would Monsieur have me drive?" inquired 
 Potin. 
 
 "Anywhere," answered the Prince, with the air 
 of not knowing what he said. "I want a little air 
 that's all. Go anywhere." 
 
 So Potin turned me toward the Condamine, and up 
 to Monaco again, where the road was less choked with 
 traffic than the streets of Monte Carlo. 
 
 237
 
 Champion 
 
 "Tell me everything," faltered Marie. 
 
 "Just one minute to breathe, and I will," replied 
 Fanning, inhaling deep drafts of air. "Heavens! 
 What a half -hour! I came down to the last louis." 
 
 "The last louis!" she gasped. "The last out of a 
 thousand pounds!" 
 
 "Yes. Wait. Let me begin at the beginning. I 
 never went through anything quite like it. You know, 
 it wasn't as if I were alone, as I used to be. I had 
 you to think of. I kept seeing your face, as it would 
 look if " 
 
 "Oh, don't! Tell me what happened." 
 
 "I stopped at the first table I came to. Something 
 seemed to say, 'This is the one !' I told you I felt luck 
 would be with me. I was in a mood to be supersti- 
 tious to obey the Voice or fancy. I had the greatest 
 confidence in my inspiration to do the right thing. I 
 played without hesitation. But all my calculations 
 were wrong: whatever I turned to do the whole force 
 of the roulette seemed to pit itself against me. None 
 of the numbers I covered came out. It was enough 
 for me to back a dozen or a column for it to fail to ap- 
 pear, ten times in succession. On simple chances it 
 was the same. If I played for runs there came inter- 
 mittances, or vice versa. I grew hot and cold. I could 
 no longer think. It looked as if the end had come for 
 
 you and me. But I made one more effort and pulled 
 
 238
 
 Champion 
 
 myself together. I thought if I could win once, we 
 might at least get out of Monte Carlo. I hoped for 
 nothing more than that, then for there was but the 
 one louis left. A light seemed to flash through my 
 brain, and black against the illumination I saw the 
 word 'Zero.' I knew that Zero would come. It was 
 as if I controlled the ball as it left the croupier's hand. 
 I had meant to separate the last louis into four five- 
 franc stakes, but I flung the one gold coin on Zero. 
 Zero it was ! I was paid thirty-five louis. The prudent 
 thing would have been to go away with the money, 
 thankful for something out of the wreck, or at least 
 to play only with small stakes. But now the two 
 words 'Quatre premiers' were printed black against 
 the light before my eyes. I risked the whole money, 
 therefore, on Quatre premiers. 'Deux; noir, impair 
 et manque,' announced the croupier. When I picked 
 up my stake and winnings I was three hundred and 
 fifteen louis to the good. This took me so long that 
 there was only just time to try my luck again before 
 the warning cry of 'Rien n'va plus.' I dashed down 
 the maximum nine louis en plein on thirty-six, 
 twenty-five louis on the trois derniers, one hundred 
 louis on the last dozen, and all I had left on red. I 
 was but just in time. The ball fell into thirty-six, 
 and, as every one had been watching this last play of 
 mine, there was a murmur from th" whole table. 
 
 239
 
 Champion 
 
 'Meme jeu,' I said. I think something must have 
 burst in my brain if I had lost, and you would have 
 been a widow all in a moment; but thirty-six came 
 up again. This time every one exclaimed, and people 
 ran from other tables to see what made the excitement. 
 
 "I was over two thousand five hundred louis to the 
 good, and all from that one, last louis. Still, the for- 
 tune I'd come to try for wasn't yet made, and I was 
 not satisfied. 'Follow your luck once more,' the Voice 
 said. 'Meme jeu,' I heard myself repeating. It was 
 as if the Voice spoke, not I. The croupier helped me 
 stake. Thirty- four came up: almost as good for me 
 as if it had been thirty-six for the third time. Sud- 
 denly I felt a kind of inward collapse. There was no 
 more inspiration. My hands trembled so that I could 
 hardly pick up my winnings. I was afraid my knees 
 would give under me as I came away. My Princess, 
 we're over two thousand seven hundred English sover- 
 eigns richer than we were when I went into the rooms ; 
 and when the jewels are redeemed we'll still have 
 nearly two thousand pounds of our own. What do you 
 think of that ?" 
 
 "Think of it !" Marie gasped. "It's wonderful but 
 terrible. Only to listen has turned me to ice, and then 
 set me on fire. We're saved, and we're rich rich!" 
 
 "Not rich; but we've enough to go on with till I 
 
 bring off another coup. Don't be frightened. I sha'n't 
 
 240
 
 I COULD HARDLY PICK UP MY WINNINGS.'" 
 
 (f. 240.)
 
 Champion 
 
 risk our all again. The Australians and Boyle-Smith 
 and two or three others will be handing me their 
 checks for the oil shares soon. But now what we've 
 got to think of is to bring back the jewels. I'll stop 
 Potin at the top of the same street as before, and you 
 must pluck up courage to walk into the lion's den 
 again to redeem the things. They won't be surprised 
 to see you back so soon. And you needn't be surprised 
 if they smile and congratulate you on your good luck. 
 They'll know you've been at the tables." 
 
 He gave her money, which they counted over to- 
 gether. The chauffeur was told where to go, and 
 where to stop, as Madame wished to descend. We did 
 not wait, as she wished to slip into the hotel unnoticed, 
 in the same way as she had slipped out ; but I doubted 
 not that everything had gone well, for in the afternoon 
 I was called upon to take a large party to Beaulieu 
 for tea, and both Prince and Princess were in the best 
 of spirits. I observed also that Mrs. Ruggles was 
 wearing a new string of pearls round her neck, while 
 a huge diamond was screwed on to each one of her 
 rather prominent ears, and she carried a gold bag with 
 a fringe of sapphires. From this I judged that some, 
 at least, of the famous jewels had been purchased, 
 and that the Prince's credit was of the best with the 
 trusting shopkeepers. 
 
 For the next few days I was kept busy in carrying 
 
 241
 
 Champion 
 
 the Prince and Princess with their friends there were 
 relays of new faces each day all over the beautiful 
 country which lies round Monte Carlo. Often I ran 
 with a full load, yet with no effort, up to La Turbie, 
 where my hospitable owner would entertain his guests 
 at luncheon in the Oriental restaurant overlooking the 
 splendid view of the Mediterranean coast. Then we 
 would sometimes dash on to the queer little village 
 of Laghet, and down to Nice; or we would twist up 
 the wild road to Sospel; or fly over the Italian fron- 
 tiers as far as San Remo. All this I enjoyed or 
 would have enjoyed if I had not been ceaselessly think- 
 ing of my real Master for the roads were good and 
 the scenery splendid. I could not help being inter- 
 ested, too, in as much as I could understand of the 
 drama in which Paul Fanning and Mary Precious 
 were the leading characters. 
 
 When they and their guests were not talking of oil- 
 wells they were gabbling about the gambling at Monte 
 Carlo, and after some days of this the technical terms 
 in the games of roulette and trente et quarante became 
 almost as familiar to me as the names of my own 
 parts. They were continually telling anecdotes of 
 "runs" they had "been on" or "just missed," of grand 
 coups they had seen or made, and one morning Paul 
 was in a particularly good humor, for all the others 
 
 Vv r ere congratulating him on a brilliant performance 
 
 242
 
 Champion 
 
 the evening before. It appeared that he had begun by 
 staking the "maximum" on red at trente et quarante, 
 and had won no less than nine times in succession, 
 when he had coolly picked up all the mass of notes and 
 played no more, thus keeping the whole of his great 
 winnings. 
 
 He passed his stroke of fortune off with a smile. 
 "That sort of thing is so easy, with plenty of money 
 and a little pluck to let your stake lie. Thank Heaven, 
 I've never been a poor man, and now this oil has been 
 discovered on my estates, it would amuse me to have 
 a really serious battle with the Casino something 
 worth bringing off. Try a system I've been thinking 
 out, employ several professional players, providing 
 them with a practically unbreakable capital, and give 
 them a chance to break the bank. With my little sys- 
 tem I believe it could be done day after day." 
 
 These were words of wisdom, because they were the 
 words of a Prince who was also a millionaire; so his 
 sycophantic friends hung upon them, and begged that 
 a syndicate might be made up for the grand experi- 
 ment, as they all wanted to come in. The Prince de- 
 murred, then consented, laughingly, and I was certain 
 that the scheme would be arranged. 
 
 We had been at Monte Carlo for a fortnight when 
 one day Paul told his chauffeur that, as he was giving 
 a big luncheon-party at his hotel, and a dinner in the 
 
 243
 
 Champion 
 
 evening, I should not be needed at all, and Potin could 
 have a holiday. This was what he and Therese had 
 waited and hoped for. Their friends' master and mis- 
 tress were now among the friends of the Prince and 
 Princess Vasilievna, so they were among the guests 
 invited to one or both of the two entertainments, and 
 the servants could get off for a run in the middle of 
 the day. 
 
 The luncheon was at one o'clock; and as soon as it 
 was sure that the party was safely assembled, the start 
 was made. We had not only the valet and maid to 
 whom Therese and Potin had taken a fancy, but the 
 English chauffeur whom they had lately picked up 
 as an acquaintance. His master was ill, and he was 
 free for the day, a fact which was to mean much for 
 me and my whole future in more ways than one. 
 
 He was a swaggering fellow who impressed me as 
 knowing very little about his work, though he put on 
 the airs of an expert, and boasted that he had never 
 seen a car which he could not drive at sight. I had a 
 dislike to him, and hoped he would not want to try 
 his hand on me; but after my passengers had stopped 
 for lunch, a dance and a game of bowls at a common 
 country restaurant over the Italian border, he ex- 
 pressed a wish to sit on the front seat beside Potin on 
 the way home. 
 
 This annoyed me, for I thought it was the first step 
 244
 
 Champion 
 
 toward a suggestion that he should drive; but for the 
 time he seemed to have no such thought in his mind. 
 He contented himself with talking of his powers, and 
 I pricked up my valves when he announced that a 
 couple of years ago he had been chauffeur to "the great 
 Barr-Simons." 
 
 Whether this statement were true, or made only to 
 impress Potin, he appeared to know a good deal about 
 the man of whom he spoke. Soon the talk turned to 
 the Vandervoorst Surprise Cup race, and the English- 
 man asked Potin if he had been there. Reluctantly 
 Potin confessed that he had not, but expressed interest, 
 and the other chauffeur proceeded to describe it in ex- 
 ecrable Fretich. Now, little as I liked the fellow, I 
 was thankful to have him as a passenger, and iri my 
 eagerness for news of my Master, I ran slackly, losing 
 power. 
 
 "What became of the young Englishman?" asked 
 Potin. "The chap whose car would have won if it 
 hadn't come to grief?" 
 
 I misfired twice in my anxiety for the answer. 
 
 "Oh, he never had a chance with Barr-Simons," 
 replied the other so contemptuously that I would 
 have pitched him out i f I had had him Otl board alone. 
 "That was all a mistake. But the fellow his name 
 was Cameron is getting well, you know. Every one 
 expected him to die, eveh his own sister, who it seehis 
 
 245
 
 Champion 
 
 is the only person in his family who has been looking 
 after him. He must have been a black sheep, I sup- 
 pose, for the story is I think Barr-Simons knew and 
 talked about it the story is that he did something 
 which forced his father, a parson and rather a swell, 
 to throw him over, years ago. But the sister was 
 visiting some one in France, for the motor-race per- 
 haps it was Mrs. Barr-Simons herself. Anyhow, she 
 nursed her brother, and quite a romance has grown 
 out of that affair. Vandervoorst, the American mil- 
 lionaire, saw her, and fell in love, so he either took or 
 pretended to take an interest in Cameron, hanging 
 about the hospital, making inquiries, sending fruit, and 
 all that sort of thing. He's a newspaper man himself, 
 but the news of what he was doing got into every other 
 paper except his own. That one carefully lay low and 
 didn't say a word till it announced his engagement to 
 Miss Cameron, only a day or two ago." 
 
 My Master getting well ; Sheila engaged to the rich 
 Mr. Vandervoorst! Here was news indeed; but there 
 was more to come. 
 
 "I met Cameron's chauffeur in London, just after 
 the accident," the Englishman went on. "He was a 
 Frenchman, but had lived in England, and talked Eng- 
 lish pretty well. He said Cameron had a fit and lost 
 control of his car in the race. He'd been working too 
 
 hard, Arnaud the chap's name was." 
 
 246
 
 Champion 
 
 "Why do you 'was'?" asked Potin. "Or is that 
 only because you have not much French grammar 
 yet?" 
 
 "I say 'was/ because he's dead now," replied the 
 other calmly. "Wasn't it in the French papers? I 
 should have thought it would be. I found it in Van- 
 dervoorst's own paper, the day I told you of, when I 
 saw the engagement announced. Quaint the two bits 
 of news should have been in the same issue. Arnaud 
 was very flush of money when I met him, and seemed 
 to be spending it all on a pretty music-hall singer, 
 a French girl who had been popular in London for the 
 last year or so. She let him spend ; and then, it seems, 
 ran away with a Spaniard, an ex-bull-fighter, who's re- 
 tired with a fortune a handsome, gipsy-looking chap. 
 I saw him in a box applauding her new song one 
 night; just the sort of man to attract a woman like 
 that. 'La Belle 'Toinette,' as they call her, broke all 
 her engagements and popped off with the Spaniard on 
 his yacht, bound for South America or somewhere. I 
 thought of Arnaud when I read she'd gone; and then 
 I saw, four or five days later, that the body of a man 
 unknown who threw himself from Waterloo Bridge, 
 had been identified as that of the mechanic and chauf- 
 feur, Jean Arnaud." 
 
 I had not a thrill of compassion for the dead man, 
 
 v/hen I heard this; not the rise of a fraction of a de- 
 
 247
 
 Champion 
 
 gree in the heat of my cylinders. He was a coward 
 and a traitor, and I was not sorry that he had died a 
 death only fit for such a man as he. And so, an end 
 of Arnaud! I didn't, believe there was a soul in the 
 world to regret him ; unless my Master, in the generos- 
 ity of his heart, forgave and pitied. My metal wasn't 
 tempered for such nobility as that, though I believed 
 myself to be made of true steel and stanch iron. 
 
 So lost was I in thoughts of the past, that for some 
 moments I became deaf to all that followed, and was 
 only recalled to the present when I found Potin and 
 his friend changing places. The Englishman was go- 
 ing to drive me! 
 
 I was sure that, if Potin had not taken a little too 
 much red wine of the country, he would not have al- 
 lowed this, for he was proud of me, and in his way 
 loyal enough to his master's interests. In a normal 
 mood he would have put his friend off, and refused 
 to run risks; but he had danced and he had drunk; he 
 was good-natured and afraid of nothing, so he gave 
 the wheel to the Englishman, and the thing I ex- 
 pected happened. The strange chauffeur, for all his 
 boasting, had never laid hands upon a car of my sort, 
 and he was like a keeper of tame leopards thrown 
 among lions. 
 
 I gave a preliminary wabble, as a warning, for I 
 
 did not want to hurt any of my passengers if I could 
 
 248
 
 Champion 
 
 help it. If he had had any sense, he would have 
 chariged speeds, for I was going at a good pace when 
 he attempted to take charge of me. But he paid no 
 heed, and the best I could do was to dash myself with 
 as little force as possible against the wall of rock by 
 the side of the road. 
 
 I didn't throw any one out, except the Englishman 
 himself, arid that was only justice. Besides, it did him 
 good, and he got up after a sobering fall, limping, and 
 bleeding from the forehead, altogether a wiser if sad- 
 der man. As fbr the cither guests, they got no more 
 than a shock from being flung all in a heap in the ton- 
 neaii, and knocking their heads together. But Potin 
 had a handful of broken glass in his face, and was 
 ready to cry with pain arid shame of what he had 
 done, to say nothing of his dread of the consequences. 
 
 As for me, not orily had I smashed my new front 
 glass that I didn't regret, for I hated it but had 
 crumpled up my fine bonnet, and bent my steering- 
 rods, so that it was a long and difficult matter to get 
 me back to the garage. Therese and the three guests 
 all went home by rail from Ventigmilia, lest they 
 should be wanted by their employers before they could 
 reach Monte Carlo by car; and Potin, left alone with 
 me, made me crawl like a wounded animal along the 
 road. 
 
 To do him justice he did not think as much about 
 249
 
 Champion 
 
 his own injuries as he did about mine, over which he 
 groaned dismally. But then, of course, it was not all 
 unselfishness. He was in a fever lest the Prince 
 should ask for me in the morning, before I could be 
 repaired, and he would have to confess that he had 
 taken me out without leave. He dismounted my steer- 
 ing-gear and rushed off with it and my damaged bon- 
 net, hoping no doubt that by working all night, he 
 might in spite of everything have me in good trim 
 again by morning. 
 
 It had been about eight o'clock and dusk, when we 
 returned; and after a couple of restless hours I had 
 tried to forget a few inward aches and pains by drop- 
 ping into a doze, when I was awakened suddenly by 
 the voice of the Prince. He and the Princess were to- 
 gether, and must have come into the garage almost 
 noiselessly, or I should have heard them, for, as I have 
 said, I generally sleep with one or two valves open. 
 
 The pair were talking together in low, agitated 
 tones, and the Princess was trying to conceal a small 
 dressing-bag under her long motoring-cloak. 
 
 "Good heavens, the car's smashed!" stammered the 
 Prince. "What devilish luck on this night of all 
 others!" and he glanced round, as if he would have 
 asked a question. But there were no chauffeurs about 
 only the helpers in charge of the garage. 
 
 250
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 / Lose My Temper. 
 
 "What can have happened and what shall we do ?" 
 almost sobbed Marie. 
 
 "I could choke Potin! He's had the car out, and 
 smashed it. Now he's sneaked off with the steering- 
 gear, and the thing can't move." 
 
 "What will become of us?" faltered the girl. 
 
 "We'll have to go off without the car, that's all," 
 said Paul moodily. 
 
 "What leave it forever? Never see it again?" 
 
 "Just so. There's nothing else for it." 
 
 "Couldn't we wait till to-morrow?" suggested 
 Marie timidly. 
 
 "What, and run the risk of being caught? It isn't 
 like you to want that. I tell you, I'm all but certain 
 Barr-Simons recognized me as I passed the table where 
 he was playing, in the trente et quarante room. He 
 looked round our eyes met. His expression 
 changed." 
 
 "But you look so different. He can't have been 
 sure it was you, even if he suspected." 
 
 "Barr-Simons' suspicions are more dangerous than 
 other men's certainties. He made no great fuss about 
 
 251
 
 Champion 
 
 his garage being burnt, for he didn't want Cameron's 
 car talked about; he preferred people not to know it 
 was there, lest the story should get round that he 
 started the fire himself, to get rid of a rival's invention. 
 But he was furious all the same no doubt of that 
 losing his car and the other as well. He must have 
 thought of me, that night; and when they had dug 
 about in the debris days after, and discovered that 
 Cameron's car wasn't destroyed, but gone, I'd bet all 
 I've made and lost at Monte Carlo that he thought of 
 me again. He may have tracked me easily, as far as 
 Nimes, who knows but farther? He's a demon 
 Barr-Simons; the only man I was ever afraid of. At 
 this moment I'll bet he's making inquiries, getting my 
 description, getting my name and address, beginning 
 to ferret out things. By to-morrow he'll have a tele- 
 gram from St. Petersburg to say that the Prince Vasi- 
 lievna is at home on his estates, and the game will be 
 up. I'm no coward no prophet of evil, Marie, but 
 I know that man; and I felt recognition in his look." 
 
 "If we must go, we must," sighed the ex-Princess, 
 "but I've grown so fond of the poor car, I hate leav- 
 ing it. It's too sad." 
 
 "I hate it too I hate the whole business," said Paul. 
 "But needs must when the devil drives or Barr- 
 Simons. Don't cry. You shall have a yacht, next 
 thing." 
 
 252
 
 "But we've only a thousand pounds left," she mur- 
 mured; "only a thousand out of it all. Oh, if you 
 hadn't played to-night!" 
 
 "If it hadn't been for Barr-Simons, I should have 
 gone on to another table, won back all my losses, and 
 made a big pile besides, I know it. But he threw his 
 evil eye on me, and sauve qui pent! Anyhow, we 
 came here with nothing; we've lived in luxury for 
 weeks; we've paid Nicolas; we go away with a thou- 
 sand pounds and a gold-fitted bag, full of jewelry." 
 
 "To think of all my beautiful dresses hanging in the 
 wardrobe, and I can't take them with me!" moaned 
 Marie. 
 
 "You've got on a beauty, covered with a hundred 
 pounds worth of lace, under your cloak. Be thankful 
 for that and that I gave you the chance to slip into 
 your room to pick up the jewelry. It was a great 
 risk; if you'd met your maid " 
 
 "I knew she was in bed. She seemed ill before din- 
 ner, and complained of a headache." 
 
 (I was not surprised to hear this. If her head had 
 not been hard, the ache might have been worse.) 
 
 "All's well that ends well ; and we needn't complain. 
 We're in luck that the last train for the night hasn't 
 gone." 
 
 "Where are we to go in it?" Marie inquired dole- 
 fully. 
 
 253
 
 Champion 
 
 "We must go to Ventimiglia ; there's none the other 
 way now. I don't know the connections farther on 
 I've no Italian time-table. But somehow, we shall get 
 somewhere, never fear ; and it doesn't matter since we 
 shall escape Barr-Simons. The Prince and Princess 
 Vasilievna cease to exist, as far as we are concerned, 
 from this moment." 
 
 "If we could have waited till to-morrow, you'd have 
 had all the System Syndicate money in ten thousand 
 pounds." 
 
 "Never mind, there are as good fish in the sea, some- 
 where else, as those we have to drop off our hooks 
 here. And now to find them. We'll take a cab to 
 Mentone. I don't want to get into a train at Monte 
 Carlo station, in case B.-S. is already on the watch." 
 
 "Good-by, dear car," said Marie mournfully. 
 "Good-by forever!" 
 
 So the pair went out of my sight, and out of my 
 life. I could not help regretting them, and wishing 
 them luck in spite of their sins against society! If it 
 had not been for them, Barr-Simons would have had 
 me, and to aid them in escaping from him I would 
 have done my best, if I had not been hors de combat. 
 
 I did not see any one I knew that night, and Potin 
 did not come early as usual, and as I had expected him, 
 next morning. It must have been about eleven o'clock 
 when he and Therese walked into the garage together, 
 
 254
 
 Champion 
 
 with a strange and crestfallen air. One would have 
 thought they had been discharged; but, as there was 
 no one to discharge them, there must be another cause 
 for their discomfiture. 
 
 They did not speak, but gazed at me sadly. Potin 
 sighed and shook his head. Therese sighed and shook 
 her head. Then they looked at each other, and perhaps 
 they would have said something, had not the English 
 chauffeur at that moment limped into the garage, his 
 forehead plastered. 
 
 "Hello !" said he. "Is it true your Prince and Prin- 
 cess have disappeared?" 
 
 "How news flies. You have heard already?" ex- 
 claimed Therese. 
 
 "It's true, then?" 
 
 "Yes, they've vanished. When I went to Madame's 
 room it was empty, and the bed had not been slept in. 
 I cried out, and the femme de chambre came running. 
 We knocked at the door of Monsieur le Prince ; no an- 
 swer. It was unlocked. We ventured in. No one 
 was there; the bed was smooth. All their clothing was 
 hanging up in the wardrobes, nothing disturbed at 
 least, we saw nothing. Then I ran to tell Monsieur 
 Potin who had just come in to his breakfast, after all 
 night at work. The manager was informed by the 
 hotel servants. We feared that Monsieur and 
 Madame had both been murdered." 
 
 255
 
 Champion 
 
 "Sure they had no reason for disappearing? That 
 sort of thing frequently happens at Monte Carlo." 
 
 "No such thought was in any one's mind at first, 
 I can tell you," said Therese. "But when we discov- 
 ered that Madame's jewels were all gone, and a little 
 dressing-bag gold-fitted also her motoring-coat and 
 hat, which she would certainly not have put on to go to 
 the Casino, after the dinner-party why, that began 
 to throw a different light on the affair." 
 
 "An ugly, red light," sighed Potin. "The manager 
 of the hotel has asked me a great many questions. 
 Some we could not answer, because neither Therese 
 nor I knew anything of the Prince and Princess until 
 about three weeks ago. We could only say that we 
 had not had our wages yet, for they were not due; 
 the first month was not up." 
 
 "I hope you've picked up some perquisites," said the 
 Englishman. 
 
 "As to that, we have perhaps not done badly in small 
 ways," Therese acknowledged. "But what can have 
 become of Monsieur le Prince and Madame la Prin- 
 cesse?" 
 
 "Perhaps they're really Monsieur and Madame 
 Something Else," said the English chauffeur. 
 
 "What a terrible thought!" gasped Therese. "But 
 the manager has sent out to the shops to learn if any- 
 thing was wrong. They have bought a great deal, 
 
 256
 
 Champion 
 
 especially Madame. Hats, dresses, jewels, all of the 
 
 best." 
 
 "What's the news?" asked the Englishman curi- 
 ously. 
 
 "None has come back yet. The person is still ma- 
 king his rounds. But I am alarmed. Madame and 
 Monsieur were seen in the hotel just about the time 
 that the Casino closed at night, or a little before. They 
 went up-stairs and came down again in their motoring- 
 coats. It looks very serious. And at all events they 
 are gone. We shall have to sing for our money, Potin 
 and I. Unless there is good news, they will not keep 
 us on at the hotel, and feed us. We must look out 
 for ourselves, and try to find other situations, rather 
 than pay our fare home; but it is difficult, late in the 
 season." 
 
 "I suppose so," said the Englishman, indifferent to 
 their anxieties, since he was comfortably placed him- 
 self. 
 
 "The Australians, Monsieur and Madame Ruggles, 
 will perhaps employ us," suggested Potin. "Madame 
 is not yet suited with a maid; and Monsieur might be 
 persuaded to buy a car and keep me on as chauffeur. 
 I have heard him talk of having a motor of his own." 
 
 "What will become of this one?" inquired the other 
 man, jerking his head toward me. 
 
 Potin shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "I don't 
 
 257
 
 Champion 
 
 know. But the manager says, if anything is wrong, 
 he will keep it, against his bill, which is now immense, 
 as it had not been paid since the end of the first week." 
 
 This item of news was particularly interesting to me ; 
 and my whole electric system began to thrill with hor- 
 ror at a new thought. What if Paul Fanning had been 
 right, and Barr-Simons had recognized him at the 
 Casino? Would he not suspect that a car in Fan- 
 ning's possession might be Hugh Cameron's car, as 
 thoroughly transformed in appearance as the thief 
 who had stolen it? Would he not come and examine 
 me, buy me of the defrauded landlord, and go off with 
 me in triumph ? 
 
 My cylinders seemed twice too heavy as I asked 
 myself these questions; but hours passed on, after 
 Potin and Therese had gone gloomily away, and no- 
 body with whom I had any concern came in, except 
 a man whom I took to be the manager of the Prince's 
 hotel. He walked in, looked me over, poked at my 
 wheels with his stick, felt the covering on my seats, 
 and sneered at the crown on my panels. By and by 
 he returned with the proprietor of the garage, and the 
 two eagerly discussed my personal appearance and my 
 value. 
 
 The hotel manager for I now learned without 
 doubt that it was he cheered up visibly when he 
 learned that as I stood I was worth at least seven or 
 
 258
 
 Champion 
 
 eight hundred pounds. He felt safe to get his money 
 back, and so, of course, did the owner of the garage; 
 for all other claims which might be raised, they said, 
 would come after theirs. 
 
 That same afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Ruggles walked 
 in, followed by Potin, who had evidently made an ap- 
 pointment with them, and who had, meanwhile, re- 
 placed my repaired steering-gear and bonnet. 
 
 The millionaire and his millionairess were sad. 
 They shook their heads and repeated again and again, 
 "Who ever would have thought it? Such nice, 
 friendly people, too ! Well, well, it is a blow !" 
 
 The proprietor of the garage was present, too, and 
 interpreted between Potin and Mr. Ruggles, for he 
 could speak some English. Mr. Ruggles had decided 
 to buy a car and to take Potin for his chauffeur. So 
 much was arranged, but Potin was anxious for his new 
 master to have me, and Mr. Ruggles thought well of 
 the plan. It was almost settled, indeed, when Mrs. 
 Ruggles broke in. 
 
 "No, I believe I just couldn't stand it!" she ex- 
 claimed. "After all the good times we've had in this 
 car with the poor Prince and Princess! I couldn't 
 bear to be reminded of them every minute. It would 
 make me sick. No, I'd rather have a new motor with- 
 out any associations, so you'll get one if you want 
 me to be happy." 
 
 259
 
 Champion 
 
 Poor, fat, red Mr. Ruggles did want her to be 
 happy more than he wanted anything else, so he said 
 that he must look elsewhere to make a purchase. 
 Potin was disappointed; but he had his engagement; 
 after all, the car did not matter. I felt that I was 
 being abandoned when the three turned and left me, 
 without a backward look. 
 
 Potin never came again to the garage, nor did the 
 Ruggles. I saw no more familiar faces, save that of 
 the man who owned the place and his employees. The 
 season, which had been unusually long, on account of 
 bad weather in less favored parts of the world, was 
 over snuffed out. The English chauffeur and his car 
 were gone; the pert Mercedes was gone. At last I 
 was alone in the garage, save for a couple of automo- 
 biles which belonged to the proprietor, and were let 
 out on hire by him. 
 
 Every day, nearly, somebody came in and looked at 
 me, talking over my points: Russians, Germans, 
 Frenchmen, who lingered for the gambling, though 
 the gaieties were over. But these people were of a dif- 
 ferent class from those who had frequented Monte 
 Carlo earlier in the spring. They had not much 
 money; they wished to do things "on the cheap." They 
 bargained and haggled and went away. I remained. 
 But one day t.he manager of the hotel where my 
 
 "Prince and Princess" had stayed came in, bringing 
 
 260
 
 Champion 
 
 with him a tired-looking young man in gray flannels 
 and a Panama hat. 
 
 "Where had I seen that interesting, anemic face 
 before?" I wondered. Then I remembered. He was 
 Mr. Boyle-Smith, and he must be rich, or the Prince 
 would not have encouraged him. I listened while he 
 talked to the manager. He had been yachting with 
 friends. They had been to Genoa, to Leghorn, and 
 had run over to Corsica. Now the yacht had brought 
 him back to Monte Carlo. He and his friends were 
 having "a little gamble" before they went home. Quite 
 a surprise to hear that the Prince's car hadn't been sold 
 yet. Had they ever found out who the man and his 
 wife really were? No? Clever of them to get away 
 like that. Pretty little woman. Rather fun to know 
 what they were up to now. He'd lost a little money 
 by them not much ; a bit he'd given "the Prince" for 
 some shares bogus ones, of course. Oh ! well, an ex- 
 perience. For his part he wished the man and woman 
 no harm. Really, he didn't care much about motor- 
 ing. Hated anything mechanical, and didn't think he 
 liked adventures. But oh, yes certainly it was a 
 handsome car. He might think of it, perhaps. 
 
 Two or three days later he appeared again, tapped 
 me here and there with the air of a proprietor, said he 
 would keep the crowns on the panels to remind him 
 
 of the Prince, and bought me at the ridiculous, hu- 
 
 261
 
 Champion 
 
 miliating price of five hundred guineas. But, as the 
 hotel manager and the owner of the garage said to 
 each other, I was so queer that nobody understood me, 
 and anything was better than to keep me over till next 
 season. 
 
 This to be said of Champion, Champion the in- 
 vincible, Champion the unique ! But my greatness was 
 fallen. No one was capable of appreciating me no 
 one guessed that in possessing me they possessed a 
 treasure beyond their poor calculation. Any wretched, 
 middle-class, forty or sixty horse-power car of known 
 make was easier to sell and had a right to put on airs 
 of superiority over me. This was galling, but, thank 
 my maker, I had enough sense of humor in my metal 
 to be faintly, if bitterly, amused. 
 
 Thus I became the property of Mr. Boyle-Smith, 
 not only a parvenu, but a person utterly outside the 
 automobile world. He had decided that it was the cor- 
 rect thing, nowadays, to own a motor-car, and be able 
 to talk about it, because all his smartest friends had 
 cars and the jargon of them on the tips of their 
 tongues. I discerned this state of things in the first 
 conversation which I naturally overheard in the gar- 
 age, and I knew he was a fool as far as motor knowl- 
 edge was concerned, from the very way he tapped my 
 body, and peered with would-be knowingness at me, 
 
 in all the wrong places. Then, when he was in the 
 
 262
 
 C ft a m p i o n 
 
 throes of engaging a chauffeur, other secret places of 
 his character were laid bare to me. Not that there 
 was much credit to a brilliant piece of mechanism like 
 me in discovering these secrets, for they were about 
 as intricate as the inner workings of those glassy- 
 looking jelly-fish I have seen sometimes by the sea- 
 shore, when running along a road near a beach. 
 
 Mr. William Boyle-Smith enjoyed letting strangers 
 know that he was rich his father had made the 
 money in ladies' corsets or something of that sort, 
 which even an automobile doesn't mention aloud in 
 mixed society but he could never have made it for 
 himself in anything; yet, at the same time, he was 
 careful to sound a note of warning that he was a 
 man who knew the value of money, and would never 
 be induced to spend a penny except in securing due 
 value for himself. "Money is money," was a favor- 
 ite axiom of his, as I soon learned; as if any one 
 ever doubted it ! 
 
 When he had bought and paid for me, I remained 
 in the garage, until he could engage a chauffeur of 
 superlative skill, combined with superlative cheapness. 
 This rara avis was apparently difficult to secure, for 
 every day for a week Mr. William Boyle-Smith used 
 to saunter into the garage once or twice to interview 
 some young man recommended by the proprietor, or 
 
 by a person outside; now a young man from Nice, 
 
 263
 
 Champion 
 
 now a young man from over the Italian border; now 
 a young man left stranded in Monte Carlo itself by 
 an employer who had been unfortunate at the "tables." 
 But always the young man would prove either in- 
 competent, or else too expensive, for Mr. Boyle-Smith 
 had irrevocably made up his mind at the fag-end of 
 the season no chauffeur ought to ask more than fifty 
 francs a week and "find himself." He wanted to be 
 able to impress his friends with his sharpness in screw- 
 ing a first-rate mechanic down to this price. 
 
 At last he was more successful than he deserved to 
 be ; but I chuckled a little, maliciously, under my petrol, 
 when I saw the youth of whose prowess he boasted 
 to the owner of the garage. Franz Krumm was the 
 creature's name, and he confessed in my presence, 
 apparently without shame, to having been born in a 
 small place called Emmerich, which would, I believe, 
 scarcely appear on a map, if it were not a frontier 
 town. Now, my own experience, and that of other 
 motors with whom I had made acquaintance, assured 
 me that frontier towns and people unfortunately born 
 in frontier towns, are never of the slightest interest 
 or importance in themselves. 
 
 Could any German be expected to drive a car so 
 foreign to his order of intelligence as I was and am? 
 Franz Krumm had all the stolidness of a German 
 without any of the German intellectuality or splendid 
 
 264
 
 Champion 
 
 obstinancy which I have observed in finer specimens 
 of that nation. Practically, he had no features. Cer- 
 tain lumps and depressions gave a vague effect of 
 a face, as if some childish hands had modeled his 
 head in dough and baked it. He was addicted to 
 saying "Soh!" and his principal attraction to Mr. 
 Boyle-Smith lay in the fact that he could speak a 
 little English a language that he had more probably 
 learned as a waiter than as a chauffeur. Also, he 
 was willing to accept the fifty francs; and his new 
 employer might even have beaten him down to less, 
 perhaps, if it had occurred to him to try. 
 
 Franz had driven a Benz, and the Benz had been 
 burnt up in a garage at Nice, since when Franz had, 
 I imagine, fared badly, his own name if one may 
 make an execrable pun being almost the only crumb 
 he had had to subsist upon. He thought he could drive 
 me; and, under the eye of Boyle-Smith, made a 
 sweating and tremulous examination of my parts. 
 
 It was really a desecration that such as he should 
 touch me, but soft and kindly air has ever filled my 
 cylinders since the days when they were cast; and I 
 was sorry for the unfortunate creature, who might 
 starve if he failed to obtain this engagement. I 
 made myself as little obscure as I could, and, owing 
 to my leniency, he did seem to arrive at some vague, 
 
 far-off understanding of my mechanism. 
 
 265
 
 Champion 
 
 That afternoon he took me out, and it is needless 
 to say that the anemic Boyle-Smith did not risk his 
 precious life in the experiment. He stood, trying to 
 look brave and debonair, watching Krumm steer me 
 out of the garage, and jumped aside once with a 
 whistle, as I tried to run over his pointed, russet 
 leather toe. 
 
 Owing to my forbearance and good nature, poor 
 Krumm did not disgrace himself, or injure me. I 
 was half-tempted to let him come to grief two or 
 three times, when he was particularly stupid, but the 
 kind airs in my cylinders forbade. Besides, I re- 
 flected that, if I had to remain shut up all summer in 
 the Monte Carlo garage, not only should I dete- 
 riorate, but I should for many months miss all chance 
 of encountering my dear Master. I knew that it was 
 Boyle-Smith's intention to take me to England, and 
 it was in England that I was most likely now to run 
 across my beloved Hugh Cameron. 
 
 More weeks than I was able to count had passed 
 since the glorious and terrible day of the race; and, as 
 he was said to have recovered, I thought it probable 
 that he had by this time gone back to the land across 
 the Channel. To be sure, he had no real home, but 
 I believed that he loved the island which had given 
 us both birth, and would wish to return there as soon 
 
 as he was able. Some day I might see him again, and 
 
 266
 
 Champion 
 
 though it would only be by a miracle that he could 
 recognize me, changed as I was, still, the one thing 
 I had left to hope for in life was that miracle. 
 
 I behaved myself like a lamb in the hands of poor 
 Krumm, and he was, accordingly, engaged as my 
 chauffeur. On a blazing day of June, when nobody 
 was left in Monte Carlo except a few Russians, Ger- 
 mans, and declasses cosmopolitans, we bumbled out of 
 the garage, of which I was now sick to death. 
 
 I carried only Boyle-Smith and Krumm, for my 
 latest owner was far too stingy to invite a guest whom 
 he would have had to entertain during the journey at 
 his expense. I had a little luggage, too, of course; 
 but my whole load was so light I might have thought 
 there was no more than a fly sitting on my bonnet. 
 
 My front glass had been replaced now, but it was 
 far too hot to keep it down ; and, amid clouds of white 
 dust, I ran back along the white roads over which the 
 Prince and Princess had brought me long ago. When 
 I say "ran," however, I speak but figuratively. In 
 spite of the kindest intentions, I could not run for 
 Krumm. He did not know how to change my speeds 
 properly ; he had taken no pains to study my little ways 
 and whims ; he had bought the cheapest oil and petrol, 
 and in spite of my light load I often gasped for breath, 
 or coughed to get rid of a grit in my carbureter. 
 
 Instead of spinning swiftly and smoothly on, cover- 
 
 267
 
 Champion 
 
 ing long distances each day, we were obliged to stop 
 frequently, making short journeys. Often, because 
 I had not been cleaned decently, I had to slow down, 
 and sometimes we were en panne for hours, Krumm's 
 ignorance being entirely to blame, or his master's 
 meanness, while I got the credit of all discomforts 
 and disasters. 
 
 Finally, my new owner grew to hate me as heartily 
 as I despised him, and I heard him tell Krumm that 
 if this was automobiling, the less he had of it in the 
 future, the better he would be pleased. As soon as 
 he got me to England, said he, he would sell me for 
 any price he could get perhaps put me up at auction. 
 
 But men propose, and sometimes motors dispose. 
 The day after we landed at Southampton, as it hap- 
 pened things went beyond even my endurance. I 
 lost my temper, owing to a piece of stupidity on 
 Krumm's part, he having forgotten to screw up any 
 of my nuts before starting, and a few miles out of the 
 town my steering-gear went wrong. I butted into 
 a wall luckily for the pair of incompetents aboard, 
 I was crawling at the time bruised my bonnet, dis- 
 located my steering-post, and tossed the two men into 
 a ditch. 
 
 268
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 / Fall Upon Evil Days. 
 
 I was so out of patience with Boyle-Smith and his 
 Krumm that I almost enjoyed the hard bump; for if 
 I had suffered, they suffered as much and even more. 
 
 Two more disheveled, wretched-looking individuals 
 than they, as presently they scrambled, grumbling and 
 groaning, out of the mud, cannot be imagined. There 
 was a little water at the bottom of the ditch into which 
 I had skilfully tossed them; water coated with green 
 slime, of which they had involuntarily accepted gen- 
 erous samples. Their clothes were torn, and in a 
 shocking state; and though they ought to have been 
 thanking their lucky stars for the preservation of 
 their necks, they indulged, instead, in futile maledic- 
 tions. Boyle-Smith scolded Krumm, and Krumm 
 blamed me. He defended himself by saying that I 
 was a beastly car, that no one but a saint could drive 
 me, and that I had caused him more anguish in ten 
 days than he had known before in the whole course 
 of his life. 
 
 "All right, you can go, then, and find a better car," 
 yapped Boyle-Smith, wiping red blood and green vege- 
 tation from his nose and mouth. He added a few 
 
 269
 
 Champion 
 
 other remarks, not only uncomplimentary to his chauf- 
 feur, but to the chauffeur's country people in general, 
 and his relations in particular. 
 
 Even a Krumm will turn, it would seem ; and certain 
 of Boyle-Smith's adjectives, applied to Germany as 
 a nation, were the two or three straws too much for 
 him to bear. He was poor, he was an alien in a 
 strange land, but he happened to be a patriot; and for 
 the first time I surprised myself by almost admiring 
 Krumm as he stood up to his purse-proud little em- 
 ployer. He took Boyle-Smith at his word, which the 
 anemic youth was far from expecting at the moment ; 
 also he took the opportunity of avenging old iniquities 
 by telling his master exactly what he thought of him. 
 When he had finished, he grabbed his humble hand-bag 
 from under my front seat his sole possession and, 
 without even demanding such wages as were due to 
 him I happened to know he had been paid for a 
 week the day before yesterday he marched stolidly 
 off back toward Southampton, leaving a trail of green 
 slime behind him. 
 
 The unfortunate Boyle- Smith was to use a favo- 
 rite expression of Mr. Ruggles flabbergasted, and 
 would, I am sure, have burst into tears if several 
 vehicles had not been approaching, to keep up his 
 pride. One of these was a farmer's cart, drawn by 
 
 a huge, upstanding Shire horse, with great feathery 
 
 270
 
 "HE TOOK THE OPPORTUNITY OF AVENGING OLD INIQUITIES." 
 
 0. 270.)
 
 Champion 
 
 legs, like a giant bantam. The cart was big and new, 
 and was driven by a jolly, red- faced young fellow, 
 who looked excellently satisfied with that state of life 
 to which it had pleased Heaven to call him. 
 
 A greater contrast between this man and the pigmy 
 Boyle-Smith could not be imagined, and an expression 
 of good-natured contempt overspread the country- 
 man's countenance when he saw me, en panne, by the 
 roadside, with my dilapidated owner feebly gesticu- 
 lating. He slowed down his fine beast, however, in 
 response to a shout from Boyle-Smith, and listened to 
 the gentleman's tale of woe: the damaged car; the 
 absconding chauffeur; the helpless and suffering con- 
 dition of the motorist. 
 
 "I have some er distant sort of relatives who 
 have a place near here must be quite close, along this 
 road, or just off it, perhaps. Could you tow me 
 there?" inquired my owner. 
 
 "If it isn't too far out of my way, sir," answered 
 the countryman. "I'm a bit late as it is, but I'll be 
 sorry to seem disobliging." 
 
 "-The name of the place is Laylor Hall," said Boyle- 
 Smith, "and, my er the ladies who live there are 
 called Brenton." 
 
 "The Miss Brentons! Oh, yes, sir, I know them 
 well. They've turned the old hall into a boarding- 
 house these last two years," exclaimed the young 
 
 271
 
 Champion 
 
 farmer jovially. "They're neighbors of ours, and get 
 their milk from us, since they've given up cow-keeping. 
 I can give you a tow there as well as not. I've got 
 a bit of rope. Hope it's stout enough for that big car 
 of yours." 
 
 "Perhaps I'd better ask how much you'll charge?" 
 weakly inquired Boyle-Smith, who could always afford 
 any luxury for himself, but was constitutionally averse 
 to parting with a penny more than necessary for 
 others. 
 
 The red-faced young man's eyes flashed. "You can 
 give what you like, sir, or nothing at all," said he. 
 "I've said I'll tow you, and that stands." 
 
 What Boyle-Smith did give or offer to give in 
 the end, was half a crown, for a three-mile tow; and 
 when the farmer refused to take it and went off with- 
 out a penny, I believe that he was pleased. 
 
 I had been dragged through a wide, open gateway, 
 and an apparently untenanted porter's lodge, up r, 
 winding avenue, through a kind of wilderness which 
 must once have been a beautiful park. After some- 
 thing more than a quarter of a mile of this, I arrived 
 in front of an old, red-brick house with stone facings, 
 and it was there that I was unroped and abandoned by 
 the half -amused, half -indignant farmer. 
 
 Mr. Boyle-Smith knocked and rang at a door of 
 
 faded oak, cracked and hungry looking for want of 
 
 272
 
 C h a m p < e n 
 
 oil. It was some time before he was admitted by a 
 depressed-looking old man, bald-headed, with a face 
 like a withered winter apple, and a dress-suit which 
 could not stand many months more of ironing and 
 brushing. 
 
 This person, who was, no doubt, a butler, evidently 
 recognized the newcomer, but did not appear over- 
 joyed to see him. As the door stood open, I caught a 
 plimpse of a large, oak-paneled hall, which must once 
 have been fine, but now it was almost bare of 
 furniture, save one good old cabinet of carved oak, 
 containing china. I saw a dilapidated sofa, a few 
 chairs, literally upon their last legs, and a rug or two, 
 which might have been handsome, but were now faded 
 and threadbare, apparently mended and remended 
 by anxious, careful hands. 
 
 These sad secrets of a fallen house sprang at me in 
 a moment; then the door closed on Mr. Boyle-Smith, 
 and I had plenty of time to take further observations. 
 
 I had heard my dear Master, in old days, as we flew 
 past fine old places, say to Arnaud; "This is Eliza- 
 bethan; this is Queen Anne; this is of the Georgian 
 period," and so on. Therefore, as I never forgot any- 
 thing that he said, I knew that Laylor Hall must have 
 been built in the days of Queen Anne. Judging from 
 appearance, too, both outside and in, as far as I was 
 able to see, it wore the air of not having been re- 
 
 273
 
 Champion 
 
 furnished or repaired since. Of course, this thought 
 was doubtless an exaggeration of the true circum- 
 stances; but, at least, many years must have passed 
 since anything had been done for the preservation 
 of house or place. 
 
 The grass of the lawn which surrounded the hall 
 was high and tangled, and choked with weeds. A vast 
 clump of rhododendrons, in full bloom, had degen- 
 erated into a wild growth, such as might be seen in a 
 wood. Here and there a tree in the park, which ringed 
 in this charmingly shaped lawn, was so old that it 
 had fallen into pitiful decay. There was a young 
 growth of bushes and brambles; the roses in a large 
 rosery at the left of the lawn were twisted and turned 
 in a wild thicket of red and pink and cream; the sun- 
 dial was covered with creepers; some of the windows 
 of the house were half-curtained with a dark drapery 
 of ivy; yet, in spite of the desolation, the poor old 
 place retained traces of great beauty; and the mellowed 
 red brick of the rambling hall, the green of the slo- 
 ping lawn, and the crimson of the rhododendrons were 
 softened into an exquisite picture under the mirrow- 
 like surface of a miniature lake. 
 
 As I stood taking in my surroundings, and wonder- 
 ing how long they were to be mine, a party of young 
 people appeared from somewhere behind the house, 
 
 with tennis-rackets in their hands. They were very 
 
 274
 
 Champion 
 
 common young people, with lumpish features ; the two 
 or three unattractive men in knickerbockers and cloth 
 caps, which might have been bought ready made for a 
 few guineas in some such cheap shop as I had often 
 passed in London suburbs. The girls wore imitation 
 Panama hats, cotton blouses, and serge skirts, longer 
 at the back than in the front. 
 
 Catching sight of me, they hurried across the weedy 
 lawn, and formed a group to gaze curiously. 
 
 "Hello, what's this?" exclaimed one of the young 
 men, who looked like a shop assistant out on a holiday. 
 "Looks as if the old girls had got hold of a bloated 
 millionaire, eh? What a treat if they have!" He was 
 very careful in getting out his "h's," and made the 
 most of them. 
 
 "Looks as if there'd been a smash," said another 
 youth, tapping my bonnet airily with his tennis-bat. 
 "My brother-in-law has an intimate friend, a doctor, 
 who owns a motor, so I know something about them." 
 
 "Goodness, I hope it won't explode!" giggled the 
 girl who evidently thought herself the beauty of the 
 party. 
 
 "Motor-cars don't explode when they're standing 
 still," explained the expert patronizingly. 
 
 "Well, I hope not," murmured the pretty girl. 
 
 They all drew a little nearer, and the men tried 
 to look knowing as they eyed me. 
 
 275
 
 C h ft in p I e 
 
 "Atiy man, millionaire or not, might get let in by 
 that advertisement of the old girls'/' went on the 
 young man who cherished his h's. "It caught me, 
 I can tell you. 'Two ladies, of old county family, 
 willing, for the sake of companionship, to entertain 
 a few paying guests, who will be made to feel as if 
 they were members of a house-party, in a magnificent 
 old Queen Anne mansion, with priceless furniture, 
 historic pictures, and heirlooms.' That was the way it 
 went, wasn't it?" 
 
 "It was the very words," chuckled another youth of 
 the same caliber. "And in the Morning Post, too. 
 You have the feeling that everything you see in the 
 Morning Post must be really smart, you know." 
 
 "The births and marriages you can depend upon," 
 put in the pretty girl's sister; "and the deaths, too, for 
 the matter of that." 
 
 "I'll bet our deaths'll go in soon, if they don't give 
 us more to eat," said the first young man. 
 
 "Well, it is cheap," admitted the pretty girl. "A 
 guinea a week; and some of the rooms are eighteen 
 shillings." 
 
 "I'm in one of them," sighed a youth who had not 
 spoken yet. "My bed's a hospital-cot. The sheets are 
 made of patches. The only chair I've got came to 
 bits last night." 
 
 "Anyhow, there's a lovely view from the windows, 
 
 276
 
 Champion 
 
 and it is a grand old place," remarked the pretty girl's 
 sister. "One can say one has been staying with a 
 house-party at Laylor Hall. It sounds all right. And 
 we have fun romping in the ballroom, evenings." 
 
 "We could have good dancing, if the piano would 
 do anything but squeak," said the pretty girl. 
 
 "It's more spinet than piano," chuckled some one. 
 
 "Well, I'm sorry for the poor old ladies. It's hard 
 on them, for they are ladies, and they do the best 
 they can," went on the pretty girl's sister. 
 
 "It's a mighty poor best," grumbled the first young 
 man. "But here we are, thanks to that advertise- 
 ment; and a goodish way from London. I suppose 
 we'll finish out the holiday here, my chum and me. 
 We'll worry through, if you young ladies can." 
 
 "We like the air," loftily replied the pretty girl. 
 "I must confess I did expect, from the advertisement, 
 to find myself among titled people, knights, or honor- 
 ables at the least ; but never mind. We've no fault to 
 find with the company, except the old tabbies who are 
 shocked because we laugh in the hall after they've 
 gone to bed, about nine. For the Misses Brentons' 
 sake, I wish the house was fuller; but for ours, I'm 
 very well satisfied as it is"; and she gave a glance 
 which, though it included all the young men, might 
 have been appropriated by any one of them. 
 
 At this moment the door was thrown open by the 
 
 277
 
 Champion 
 
 moth-eaten old butler, and out came two elderly ladies, 
 accompanied by Mr. Boyle-Smith. They were little 
 ladies, and gave the impression of having shrunk a 
 good deal, owing to the wear and tear of life; never- 
 theless they had a certain dignity, which comes of good 
 blood. They were dressed alike, in old-fashioned 
 black stuff, which might have been turned and turned 
 again; and though they might have been of any age 
 from forty-eight to sixty, their thin; oval faces still 
 kept a curiously original, almost girlish look. Some- 
 how they reminded me of pale roses that had been 
 gathered while they were still in bud, and pressed for 
 many years between the pages of a book. Poor little 
 old ladies! My cylinders warmed to them at first 
 glance; and I thought that Mr. William Boyle-Smith 
 ought to be exceedingly proud of the right to call them 
 "Cousin Bettina" and "Cousin Alicia," instead of 
 seeming half-ashamed of the relationship, before the 
 group of "paying guests." 
 
 Once, no doubt, these little faded Misses Brentons, 
 with their fine old home, had been relations of whom 
 such people as Boyle-Smith had sprung from must 
 have been delighted to claim kin with. But now they 
 had come down in the world as I had! and the 
 Boyle-Smiths had gone up as far as money could carry 
 them. The Miss Brentons were "poor relations" in 
 these changed days, and young Boyle-Smith was in a 
 
 278
 
 Champion 
 
 position to swagger a chance of which he naturally 
 availed himself. 
 
 The paying guests, who called their hostesses "old 
 girls" behind the old ladies' dignified little backs, were, 
 nevertheless, somewhat in awe of them when face to 
 face, it seemed, for they retired slowly into the back- 
 ground, anxious as I knew they were to learn all 
 details concerning me. 
 
 Mr. Boyle-Smith made a great adventure out of the 
 slight accident, alluded to his chauffeur as a "danger- 
 ous ruffian," and intimated that the wretch had had 
 to be driven away before he would accept a dismissal. 
 He went on to mention with apparent inadvertence 
 some of the grand friends with whom he had been 
 spending his time abroad, said he had bought his car 
 of a "great pal," Prince Vasilievna, but that he was 
 tired of it now, and wanted one of higher powe-r. 
 
 "That is always the way with us motorists," he 
 continued, delighted to see that he was impressing the 
 ladies. "We always want something bigger and 
 newer; we're never satisfied. Now, I paid a thousand 
 pounds for this motor" that was a forty horse-power 
 falsehood! "but already I've got my eye on another. 
 As a matter of fact, I stopped here instead of going 
 back to Southampton after the accident, to offer the 
 car to you as a loan until I make up my mind how to 
 dispose of it." 
 
 279
 
 Champion 
 
 "Dear me, that is very kind of you, I am sure, Will- 
 iam," said Miss Brenton the elder, who was Cousin 
 Bettina, "but Alicia and I know nothing about auto- 
 mobiles." 
 
 "We might, perhaps, learn," suggested Miss Alicia, 
 who was evidently the more ambitious, as well as the 
 younger, of the two; "that is, if William means to 
 offer us the use of the car." 
 
 "Oh, yes, of course," said William, his boiled-goose- 
 berry eye betraying his conviction that he was saddling 
 his relations with a white elephant. "Oh, yes, use it 
 as much as you like if you can find a chauffeur to 
 understand it or you might like to pick up the art 
 of driving yourself. It's quite easy, and would save 
 expense." 
 
 "A nice figure Alicia would make driving that great 
 thing!" cooed Miss Bettina. "A mouse driving a 
 pumpkin coach. It gives me a nightmare even to 
 think of it. But certainly we will keep your car till 
 you wish to send for it, William. Unfortunately for 
 us, our stables are empty in these days. You can 
 hardly expect a garage here, but we will do the best 
 we can to give shelter to your property." 
 
 "But think how it would add to the attraction of our 
 advertisement if we could put : 'a motor-car for use 
 of the guests at Laylor Hall!' " pleaded Miss Alicia. 
 
 "It would bring us so up to date; and you remember, 
 
 280
 
 Champion 
 
 sister, those horrid Higginsons who turned round and 
 went home when they saw the pony-chaise at the 
 station." 
 
 Miss Bettina reflected, her thin little face falling 
 into anxious lines. 
 
 "Isn't a motor very expensive to keep, William?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "Costs next to nothing," ribbed Boyle-Smith, unable 
 to look me in the lamps; for everything about me 
 shouted the word money. I could not help that. I 
 was not to blame for it ; .but I knew that it was a fact. 
 I was an expensive luxury, and utterly unsuitable to 
 Laylor Hall in these its evil days. 
 
 Nevertheless, it ended in the Miss Brentons agree- 
 ing to take me over. Evidently Mr. Boyle-Smith was 
 so disgusted with motoring and motors, that he was 
 determined to rid himself of the incubus. His cousins, 
 poor little old ladies, had been brought up to respect 
 and obey male intelligence, even intelligence of the 
 Boyle-Smith order; and it was not difficult to per- 
 suade them that I would prove not only an ornament, 
 but a boon and a blessing to the establishment. 
 
 Three or four men who had been working in the 
 fields of a neighboring farm were employed to pull, 
 push, and tug me to the stables, where I was wheeled 
 into a large loose-box, draped with cobwebs. Boyle- 
 Smith said that my injuries were insignificant, and 
 
 281
 
 Champion 
 
 that he would send a mechanic from Southampton to 
 "put me straight." This promise he had just enough 
 decency to keep; but he might have known, and prob- 
 ably did know, what the result would be. The man 
 who came out on his bicycle to Laylor Hall looked 
 me over, evidently puzzled by more than one of my 
 features, and announced to the two old ladies who 
 had fluttered out with him to the stables, that to be 
 repaired I must be taken to Southampton. 
 
 The sisters searched each other's countenances anx- 
 iously. How much would it cost? They inquired. 
 
 The mechanic answered that a motor would have 
 to be sent "from his place" to tow me into town ; then, 
 there was his time to-day; and the repairs would 
 amount to anything from eight to twelve pounds. The 
 whole business might, at most, run up to thirteen 
 or fourteen guineas. 
 
 The little old ladies grew pale, but were restrained 
 by pride and self-respect from giving any audible vent 
 to their emotion. They would think about it, they re- 
 plied. Such a matter would require some considera- 
 tion. They were not sure whether they would have 
 enough use for the motor-car to justify their going 
 to such expense. They paid the man for his visit, 
 with as much politeness as if he had been a doctor; 
 and my cylinders ached for them as I saw the thin- 
 ness of Miss Bettina's pocketbook. It was an ancient 
 
 282
 
 Champion 
 
 thing of faded purple leather, and had the air of hav- 
 ing been handed down to the sisters by one of their 
 parents. When the mechanic had got what he asked, 
 nothing seemed to be left in it but pennies. It was 
 like Boyle-Smith to take credit to himself for doing a 
 favor, while in reality he thought solely of his own 
 convenience. He was now far away, and his poor but 
 proud relations were not of the sort who would follow 
 him up with appeals for money to get them out of the 
 difficulty in which they had been landed by his selfish- 
 ness. 
 
 From time to time the worried little sisters came 
 together in the loose-box, sniffed at me, sighed over 
 me, and, having discussed ways and means, always 
 reached the same conclusion. Things were not going 
 well enough at Laylor Hall to justify an expenditure 
 of even ten pounds on a motor-car. They had got 
 along without such a thing so far, and must continue 
 to do so for the present. 
 
 So the dreary days went on. The cobwebs which 
 draped the walls draped me as well. I grew gray with 
 dust, and my paint began to crack, my machinery to 
 rust. In such a state of misery was I reduced that I 
 would have rejoiced to see the face of Boyle-Smith 
 that mean little face which more than once I had said 
 to myself I hoped never to behold again. There was 
 
 a season when I hoped that he might realize my value 
 
 283
 
 Champion 
 
 and come and claim me, perhaps bringing with him 
 an expert who would tell him what a treasure he had 
 come near to discarding. If this should happen, I 
 would be put to rights and taken out into the world 
 again the world where my dear Master lived and 
 perhaps thought sometimes of me. That hope died 
 at last, as the summer died; but there was always the 
 chance that, if Boyle-Smith never intended to use me 
 again himself, his economical instincts might prompt 
 him to sell me for a song to some one else. But 
 autumn came and went. My loose-box remained shut 
 up. No more visits of inspection were paid to me by 
 the Misses Brenton. No hand ever touched the locked 
 door of my prison, though it was shaken by cold, 
 wintry winds, and soft white feathers of snow drifted 
 through the open space underneath. 
 
 I felt myself growing old. I was finished, I said 
 to myself. I should never see my Master again. There 
 seemed nothing left for me but to rot and rust, and 
 finally fall to pieces with the falling fortunes of Lay- 
 lor Hall. 
 
 A year in the life of an ordinary automobile is 
 equal to ten years in the life of a horse, for the legs 
 of a horse have never yet been superseded by any new 
 inventions which suit him better; whereas, every suc- 
 cessful make of motor is being continually improved. 
 
 I thought sympathetically, now, of the poor old super- 
 
 284
 
 C fr i m p I o n 
 
 animated cars I had sneered at in the pride of my 
 youth and power. Though I was a law unto myself, 
 and so original in my compositions that my Master 
 had called me "day after to-morrow's car," still, by 
 this time, he or some one else had perhaps thought of 
 something evert more marvelous than I had seemed 
 at birth. 
 
 I lost count of the days, the weeks, the months. I 
 knew only that winter had passed and spring had 
 come, because the cold no longer poured through the 
 crevices round the door. There were balmy airs, and 
 glimpses of sunshine from the happy world which I 
 hardly expected now to see again. Then it grew 
 warm. There were bright, moonlit nights and hot 
 days. Summer had come once more. 
 
 I slept as much as I could, by the way of forgetting 
 my hopeless condition, though it is true that dreams 
 made me sadder than before, when I woke again. And 
 one morning when summer seemed to have lasted for 
 many weeks I was waked from a doze by a voice 
 which was like a part of my dream. 
 
 In my sleep I had been traveling to Paris, joyously 
 carrying my handsome young Master and lovely Lia 
 Murray. She had been warning him against Arnaud, 
 and I was wishing with all my might that he would 
 heed her words, when I heard her voice outside the 
 door of the loose-box. 
 
 285
 
 Champion 
 
 "Is this where you keep your motor-car, Miss Bren- 
 ton?" the voice was saying. But I could not believe 
 my own valves. I thought that I was not really awake, 
 or else that my imagination was playing me a trick. 
 
 "Perhaps I am in my second motorhood," I told 
 myself. But something was going to happen. For 
 the first time in many months the key was being turned 
 in my door, and I would know in a moment whether I 
 had heard the voice of Lia Murray or a stranger. 
 
 286
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 / Sing "The March of the Cameron Men.'* 
 
 Creak creak ! sounded the rusty hinges. The door 
 opened, and I could have teuf-teufed a wild song of 
 joy and welcome, if only my poor, rusty engine had 
 been working. 
 
 It was she Lia, and Lia's father; and with them 
 were the two Miss Brentons. 
 
 No wonder I had thought I was dreaaming. That 
 these two, out of all the people in the wide world, 
 should have come to open my prison doors at Laylor 
 Hall, seemed little short of a miracle. But there are 
 some things, I have learned, that are too strange not 
 to be true. 
 
 So wonderful did it seem for Lia to be there, that 
 for an instant I believed that she must have tracked 
 me to this place, that she must know me in my bulky, 
 red disguise, and have come to rescue me from half 
 across the world. But my first look at her face showed 
 me that this wild supposition was a mistake. She was 
 as beautiful as ever, more womanly looking and sedate, 
 somehow, though not a day older in appearance; but 
 not the faintest sign of recognition brightened her 
 
 eyes as she turned them with interest upon me. 
 
 287
 
 C h a m p I o fl 
 
 "Why, yes," she said, evidently continuing some 
 conversation with the Miss Brentons, "it does seem a 
 pity to shut up such a fine big car and not use it. The 
 poor thing is simply thick with dust and cobwebs, and 
 I declare, if there isn't something that 'looks like a 
 mouse-nest in the back seat in the tonneau !" 
 
 This explained a curious tickling sensation I had 
 often experienced of late, and had been at a loss to 
 account for. No doubt her surmise was right. I was 
 at the mercy of the meanest creatures, who had the 
 liberty I was denied. 
 
 "My sister and I have been somewhat straitened in 
 our finances," answered the elder Miss Brenton, with 
 gentle dignity. "And our cousin, to whom the car 
 belongs, has been on a yachting excursion with friends, 
 going round the world. We haven't heard from him, 
 but I saw in a paper that he had returned the other 
 day, and arrived in London." 
 
 Mr. Murray came close to me, and began examining 
 me in a blundering, amateurish way. 
 
 "This automobile would want a lot of doing up, 
 beyond the repairs, before it would be fit to use," 
 said he. 
 
 Miss Alicia's face fell. "Oh, do you think so?" 
 she sighed. "Dear me, it does seem as if everything 
 was against us. Bettina and I talked things over, 
 
 after what you said last night, and when your daughter 
 
 288
 
 Champion 
 
 thought you and she might like to hire the car by the 
 day the rest of the time you you are kind enough to 
 stop with us, we fancied that we might be able to 
 undertake the repairs mentioned by a mechanic we 
 once called in. But as you say, now that one comes 
 to see the thing, it does look as if a great deal would 
 have to be done; revarnishing, perhaps; and I'm afraid 
 there ought to be recovering for the seats." 
 
 "There certainly ought," said Mr. Murray, "and 
 I don't know much about such things; but if you've 
 set your head on seeing what you've got left of Eng- 
 land on an automobile before going home, I guess 
 we'd better hire one that's ready." 
 
 I almost burst a valve on hearing this, it was such 
 agony to have my hopes raised to the sky only to have 
 them dashed to earth again. It was a good thing for 
 my reputation that I was not working, for without 
 doubt I should have been attacked with failure of the 
 ignition. But Lia did not answer. Her eyes, roving 
 over me, had rested on my wheels. 
 
 "Why, Dad !" she exclaimed, brushing past him and 
 bending down to peer more closely, "do you notice 
 anything strange about this automobile?" 
 
 "No," said her father, "except that it looks like 
 a back number, gone out of print." 
 
 "The wheels are exactly like those on Mr. Cam- 
 eron's car!" the girl explained excitedly. 
 
 289
 
 Champion 
 
 For a second I felt as if my carbureter were on 
 fire, but I cooled down again in thought when Mr. 
 Murray spoke again. 
 
 "What Mr. Cameron?" he asked blankly. 
 
 Gone like a broken sparking-plug was any hope 
 that the father and daughter were still in touch with 
 my Master, and that, through them, if they would only 
 hire or buy me, I might reach him again, after all. 
 They had lost sight of him; nevertheless, I would 
 rather belong to Lia Murray than, any one else in my 
 world, because of old, happy associations. But how 
 could I dare dream that she would accept a poor, old, 
 battered wreck such as I must now appear, covered 
 with dust and cobwebs in this dingy loose-box? 
 
 "Oh, Dad, you must remember Mr. Cameron," the 
 girl reproached her father. "Surely you know whom 
 I mean? That splendid young Englishman who took 
 me to Paris in his car, while you followed; and we 
 went to his race to see him win, but he was badly 
 hurt." 
 
 "Of course I remember him well enough," Mr. Mur- 
 ray said, "but I'd forgotten his name, and we've met 
 such bushels of people since, and Camerons and Camp- 
 bells, and all sorts of names in Scotland, I can't pre- 
 tend to sort them out in my mind, and ticket the right 
 owners. But as for the wheels of his car, I don't 
 
 know that they were different from any others. I 
 
 290
 
 Champion 
 
 only know his car was no more like this than a race- 
 horse is like a hippopotamus." 
 
 "No, his car wasn't like this," admitted Lia, "but 
 the wheels are just the same. They had ordinary tires, 
 you know. It makes me quite homesick to see this 
 automobile." 
 
 I guessed then that, though she might not have men- 
 tioned my Master or me to her father during all these 
 long months, she had thought of us often, and of the 
 glorious day when we spun her toward Paris, all three 
 happy and full of hope. 
 
 Mr. Murray laughed. "If it makes you homesick, 
 we'd better go back to the house," said he. 
 
 "Noj I want to talk to you here about this car," 
 she objected. "But we needn't keep the Miss Bren- 
 tons. You see," she went on to the sisters, "I want to 
 persuade my father to buy this automobile!" 
 
 "Buy this old ruin!" exclaimed Mr. Murray. "Of 
 all the " 
 
 "It isn't a ruin," broke in his daughter. "You just 
 wait till you see it all dusted and varnished, and new 
 leather on the seats. It'll be a beauty, I promise you." 
 
 "I suppose our cousin would sell," replied Miss 
 Alicia. "I think he is tired of motoring, and he 
 seemed to have taken a dislike to this car." 
 
 "We won't buy it, anyhow, unless he pays you a 
 
 commission on the price we give, because that's only 
 
 291
 
 Champion 
 
 fair, and you've kept it for him a long time; you can 
 say, if we decide to take it off his hands, it must be 
 arranged that way," said Lia, as shrewdly as if in- 
 stinct had shown her a chart of Mr. Boyle-Smith's 
 character. 
 
 "I don't think we'll buy it on any terms," Mr. Mur- 
 ray put in stolidly. "I'd have been willing to hire the 
 automobile for you, if it had pleased me when I came 
 to see it, but " 
 
 "Well, we'll just talk it over, anyway, Dad; and 
 maybe the Miss Brentons will let us stay here, where 
 we can look at the car," cut in Lia, in her pretty, coax- 
 ing voice. By this time, my petrol would have been 
 rising with hope if I had not been empty these many 
 weary months. I had not had a very long acquaintance 
 with Mr. Murray and Miss Cecilia ; but the knowledge 
 I had of them made me almost sure that, if she had 
 really made up her mind she wanted me, she would 
 get me in the end. 
 
 The two Miss Brentons gladly took the hint con- 
 veyed in the girl's words; and, saying they would go 
 and have a look at the new boy who was doing the 
 garden, they pottered away. The moment their backs 
 were turned Lia helped herself to a large silk hand- 
 kerchief which was hanging out of her father's pocket, 
 and dusted off my front seat not the seat with the 
 
 alleged mouse-nest. 
 
 292
 
 Champion 
 
 "Now let's sit here and pretend we're having a 
 spin," laughed the girl, climbing up. "I'll drive!" and 
 she laid her little warm hand on my battered steering- 
 wheel. "Poor old car ! It has gone through the wars ! 
 But it can easily be made as smart as new. I wish 
 it could tell us its story, don't you?" 
 
 How I did echo that wish, and how surprised she 
 would have been, could it have been granted! 
 
 "This seems like old times, doesn't it, dear?" she 
 asked when her father grumbling a little had hu- 
 mored her by scrambling to the place by her side. 
 
 "Anybody'd think you'd spent half your life in an 
 automobile to hear you talk, Lia," said Mr. Murray. 
 "Except that day going to Paris, you haven't set foot 
 in one half a dozen times since." 
 
 "Oh, but that day was the day of my life," she cried. 
 "I shall never forget it or Mr. Cameron." 
 
 "I don't recall hearing you mention his name since 
 the day we learned that he was out of danger from his 
 injuries," said her father. 
 
 "Well, we left France and went to Italy that very 
 day. There were lots of other people and things to 
 talk about," she answered, a little confused. 
 
 "I remember being a bit worked up because you 
 wouldn't stir till you heard he was all right," went 
 on the old gentleman. "But afterward, when you 
 seemed to forget him, why, my mind was relieved, 
 
 293
 
 Champion 
 
 and I forgot him, too. Not that he wasn't a very nice 
 young man." 
 
 "He was," said Lia softly. "You know, he's a 
 great swell now." 
 
 "No, I don't," replied Mr. Murray blankly; "I don't 
 know anything about him, except that he got well after 
 lying in the hospital for a good many weeks, and 
 probably went home to England with that pretty sister 
 of his." 
 
 "She's married now," said Lia. 
 
 "How do you know?" inquired her father. 
 
 "I saw all about it in the papers. I didn't speak of 
 it to you, because because I thought if you were 
 interested you'd be sure to see it, and say something." 
 
 "Great Scott! We've got more to do than read 
 about weddings, especially English weddings!" 
 
 "But Mr. Cameron's sister married an American, 
 Mr. Vandervoorst, the famous Mr. Vandervoorst who 
 started the great daily paper in London and Paris 
 the one who gave the cup for the automobile race, 
 where poor Mr. Cameron and his car came to grief. 
 It was a grand wedding." 
 
 "Oh, that was it, was it? Well, perhaps I saw the 
 account of the function, but didn't associate the bride's 
 name with any one we knew. When did it happen?" 
 
 "Long ago. While we were in Italy. And not long 
 fter Mr. Cameron's father died. He was a clergy- 
 
 294
 
 Champion 
 
 man, but, all the same, I don't think he could have been 
 a very nice, kind man, for he was angry with his son 
 for years because he wouldn't enter the church. As 
 if one could, without a vocation. You didn't know 
 his father was a lord, did you?" 
 
 "Not I. What kind of a lord?" 
 
 "A viscount. That's why Mr. Cameron was the 
 Honorable Hugh Cameron. But now he's Lord Dun- 
 ayrtoun; and there are often things about him in the 
 papers. He hadn't so very much money, it seemed, 
 even though he did come into his father's title; but 
 Mr. Vandevoorst and he went in together for making 
 the same kind of automobile that Mr. Cameron in- 
 vented and ran in the race. There were people who 
 tried to steal the secret, but they didn't get it; and Mr. 
 Vandervoorst was now fully interested in the car that 
 was broken. They've got works now, where their 
 automobiles are made, and already they've delivered 
 a few to customers, though it's only a year since they 
 began, and they're making a great success. They're 
 hurrying up with one of a hundred and twenty horse- 
 power, or something gigantic like that; bigger, even, 
 than the dear old car that died." 
 
 The emotions of the "dear old car that died," dur- 
 ing this recitation, are not to be described. It was 
 better than a precious draft of life-restoring petrol to 
 hear that my beloved Master had come into his own,
 
 Champion 
 
 and was now rich and brilliantly successful glorious 
 to think of the bitter mortification his good fortune 
 must have inflicted on our common enemy, Barr-Sim- 
 ons. But I was only an automobile; not a winged 
 aeroplane of angelic disposition, and my very metal 
 seemed to disintegrate as I heard how I had been 
 superseded. 
 
 Hugh had no longer any reason to regret me, since 
 his sister's marriage had given him a powerful friend 
 and millionaire partner to forward all his schemes. 
 He had made other cars like me on an improved pat- 
 tern, perhaps; and one, one above all others, grander 
 than I had ever been, a car which would win for him 
 the world-fame which I had tried and failed to win. 
 
 "I hope the wheels of this poor old wreck aren't 
 falling to bits," grumbled Mr. Murray. "It seems as 
 if the thing was shaking under us." 
 
 "You imagine it, dear," said Lia. "I think it's a 
 beautifully comfortable car, as strong as a rock, and 
 I should just love to have it to finish our tour around 
 England. If I had an automobile of my own, I be- 
 lieve I could go home happy, though I do feel as if 
 I should have to come back to dear England once 
 every year now I've seen it." 
 
 "We're seeing this part of it in a mighty queer way," 
 chuckled Mr. Murray grimly. "Castle Rackrent isn't 
 
 in it with Laylor Hall." 
 
 296
 
 Champion 
 
 "It's an adventure, anyhow," said Lia. "I'm so 
 sorry for those poor old ladies, that I'm just as glad 
 we answered their wonderful advertisement, which 
 seemed as if it would mean getting into the very inner 
 heart of aristocratic England." 
 
 "All the same, it's a real take-in," answered her 
 father. 
 
 "Well, this is a fine old place, and they have got 
 priceless furniture and china and pictures the two or 
 three good things they have left." 
 
 "And all the rest can hardly be held together with 
 glue," laughed Mr. Murray. "I wonder any of the 
 'paying guests' stay over more than one meal.", 
 
 "It's going to be all different for next season," said 
 Lia calmly. "Miss Brenton thinks the five thousand 
 dollars I've offered to lend her will mend the old 
 things and buy enough new ones to say nothing of 
 pretty chintzes and clean rugs to make the advertise- 
 ment quite true and poor old Laylor Hall really pop- 
 ular. Now, don't open your eyes at me like that, Dad ! 
 You promised you'd never question what I wanted to 
 do with my own money." 
 
 "I'll be jizzled!" murmured Mr. Murray indig- 
 nantly. I did not know exactly what he meant; but 
 his daughter did not appear to be either shocked or 
 alarmed, so perhaps it was nothing very bad. 
 
 Of course, it did end as I thought it would, in Mr. 
 
 297
 
 Champion 
 
 Murray's buying me. He haggled in telegrams with 
 Boyle-Smith, who had just come back from London 
 from that long trip at some one else's expense; and 
 at last, when it had occurred to the shrewd old Ameri- 
 can to break off negotiations, came a wire from the 
 owner offering me for two hundred and fifty pounds, 
 of which the Miss Brentons were to have fifty. 
 
 The same mechanic who had inspected me a year 
 ago came again, and towed me off to Southampton be- 
 hind a puffy little apoplectic motor of eighteen or 
 twenty horse-power, who would not have dared call 
 its engine its own in my presence a year and three or 
 four months ago. 
 
 I was taken to a combination of machine-shop and 
 garage at Southampton, and the first face I saw there 
 was that of Franz Krumm, who had evidently sought 
 employment and found it in this establishment, after 
 leaving Boyle-Smith plante la, in the road. 
 
 Judging from the expression of his lumpish face, 
 he had not gained much in intelligence through added 
 experience, but his dull, blue eyes lit up with such a 
 gleam of genuine pleasure at sight of me, that I could 
 not help being a little glad to see him, in spite of past 
 injuries. He had not liked me any better than I had 
 liked him, and had not even paid me the compliment 
 of trying to understand me, while I had read him 
 through and through at first glance.
 
 Champion 
 
 But petrol is thicker than water when you have 
 poured it yourself, I suppose, as well as when you 
 have received it. The fact that I was a link with his 
 past, apparently warmed the heart of Krumm toward 
 me and I felt much the same toward him. He hov- 
 ered about me a great deal during the repairing and 
 refreshing process, and as I grew handsome and dis- 
 tinguished once more, under the hands of the up- 
 holsterer and varnisher, he became proud of his old 
 association with me. 
 
 In informing the management that he had driven 
 me for a former owner, he naturally neglected to add 
 the information that my battered condition was due 
 to him. He said, and even demonstrated, that he 
 understood me thoroughly, which no one else did; 
 and when Mr. Murray and Lia came into the garage 
 to see how I looked they were both astounded by 
 my renewed magnificence, and Lia said, "I told you 
 so!" he begged to be engaged as their chauffeur. 
 
 With them he had to be more frank than he had 
 been with his employer, but he said that he had been 
 half-starved by Mr. Boyle- Smith, who grudged me 
 decent oil and petrol. It pleased Lia that he could 
 explain the mystery of the crown upon my glittering 
 panels a real live Prince and Princess had owned 
 me, then! and when Krumm hinted that not only 
 
 was he the one man in England who knew me as I 
 
 299
 
 Champion 
 
 should be known, but that he had an aged mother 
 and five sisters in Germany depending upon his ex- 
 ertions, Lia induced her father to engage him at once. 
 
 By this time, the Murrays had been staying for a 
 fortnight at Laylor Hall, and were evidently, in spite 
 of their compassion for the Brentons, glad to get away. 
 
 We started forth the day after my varnish was pro- 
 nounced dry; and though Krumm was as stupid and 
 dreamy as ever, his wages were now so good that he 
 did indulge me with oil free from grit. Thankful 
 for this boon, and rejoicing beyond power of petrol 
 to express in my cleanliness, my freedom from rust 
 as well as dust, my blessed liberty, and the sheer de- 
 light of motion after long inaction, I found myself 
 able to run surprisingly well for my bungling 
 chauffeur. 
 
 As for Lia, she was in the seventh heaven as the 
 proud possessor of an automobile of her own, and such 
 a fine one. Even her father confessed that I was a 
 wonderful bargain at the price ; and the two discussed 
 taking me over to America with them when they went 
 "home." 
 
 Their talk of leaving England, however, was like 
 annihilation to me, for each day now, I hoped against 
 hope that we might run across my dear Master. 
 Though he would not recognize me; though he had 
 
 other favorites now, I thought I could rust out con- 
 
 300
 
 Champion 
 
 tentedly in the end, if I could but see him just once 
 more before I was transported from English shores 
 for ever. 
 
 The father and daughter had already lingered, how- 
 ever, much longer than they had originally intended. 
 They had "done" Ireland and Scotland, as ordinary 
 tourists, traveling by train, and would have finished 
 their visit to England in the same dull way, had they 
 not been seduced by the Miss Brentons' advertisement, 
 and thus chanced upon me. 
 
 Weather favored us, for it was late in the month 
 of July; and day after day we ran about, through the 
 middle counties of England, then south to Devon and 
 Cornwall. 
 
 Never, for an instant, did I relax my vigilance, star- 
 ing ahead, flashing glances down side roads, even 
 when dust was so thick that my lamps were blurred, 
 or rain fell so heavily that they flickered under a 
 bulletlike hail of drops. Always I was searching for 
 my Master; always I made my engine work to the air 
 of that "March of the Cameron Men," which, whistled 
 by Hugh, had been one of the first sounds I had ever 
 heard. "If he should pass, and catch the thrum of it, 
 he might pause and suspect the truth," I would assure 
 myself at night, lying in some new garage. 
 
 "Will ye no come back again?" my motor would 
 
 ask, in the beautiful old tune I had learned from his 
 
 301
 
 Champion 
 
 lips; yet he did not come; and in a fortnight more I 
 was to be shipped to New York. 
 
 One hot, dusty day, however, I was so dispirited 
 that I had not energy to beat out the "March of the 
 Cameron Men." The fact was, I was going on very 
 little petrol, but Krumm intended to get me through to 
 the village where we would put up for the night, with- 
 out stopping to buy more. I could do it, I knew, but 
 I was thirsty and cross, and felt very slack. Almost 
 I could have gone to sleep as I ran, and indeed, I was 
 half-dreaming of a nice, cool garage, like the one 
 where my Master had kept me in Paris on the way to 
 the race my good dreams were always of the old 
 days when out from the cloud of white dust far 
 ahead, down the straight, level road, I saw emerge 
 myself ! 
 
 Yes, it was true, and no waking dream. Myself 
 as I once had been, was coming to meet myself, as I 
 was now coming faster, faster, and near. Soon we 
 should have passed one another as ships pass in the 
 dark, and all would be over. 
 
 It was only for half a second that I was dazed, not 
 knowing what to make of the vision. Then, in an 
 electric flash, I realized the truth. One of my Mas- 
 ter's cars was approaching the grand champion 
 making a trial trip, perhaps and who was likely to 
 
 be at the helm if not my Master himself? 
 
 302
 
 Champion 
 
 Two men were in the car, both masked and goggled. 
 He who was driving slowed down a little as in duty 
 bound, at signs of a car ahead; still, his speed was 
 great; there was but a second to think. 
 
 It was my Master. I knew him, in spite of his mask 
 and the cap pulled low over the forehead. I knew 
 him afar off, and would have known him, I think, had 
 it been darkest midnight instead of blinding noon. 
 
 He would go on, and not know me. This chance 
 for which I had longed and lived since the day we 
 lost each other might never come again. What 
 should I do? 
 
 With a violent effort I gulped away the last drop of 
 my petrol which might, with economy, have lasted an- 
 other half-hour. Sighing, I stopped dead, in the mid- 
 dle of the road, just as Krumm was in the act of turn- 
 ing out for the big racing-car. 
 
 Quickly, my Master put on his brakes, or he would 
 have run me down for I had taken that risk, even 
 with the thought of Lia in my cylinders; I knew so 
 well what Hugh could do in an emergency. 
 
 She had not seen him yet, nor he her. She wore a 
 kind of hood of gray silk, which covered her face as 
 well as her head, and had a talc window over the eyes. 
 This made her unrecognizable, and as we were leav- 
 ing some very fine scenery behind, she and her father 
 had lately changed over to sit with their backs to the 
 
 303
 
 Champion 
 
 motor, so that they might have the last glimpse of the 
 sea and the downs. 
 
 My sudden stop, however, and the whiz of an ap- 
 proaching car of high power, caused father and daugh- 
 ter to turn hastily round; and, though Mr. Murray 
 cared too little for automobiles to know one sort from 
 another, Lia instantly recognized the new car as the 
 image of my old self. 
 
 My Master, chivalrous as always, had stopped dead, 
 believing me to be en panne, and wishing to ask if 
 assistance were needed. He already had his cap off 
 and his lips apart for the question, when Lia ex- 
 claimed: "Why, it's Champion over again!" 
 
 With that, off came my Master's mask, and my cyl- 
 inders almost cracked in the wild, mad ecstasy of see- 
 ing him again. 
 
 "Is that Miss Murray's voice?" he asked, and Lia 
 began to untie the ribbons of her silk hood, while Mr. 
 Murray pulled his goggles solemnly down over his 
 nose, to peer over them. 
 
 "Mr. Cameron!" the girl and her father both ex- 
 claimed; but instantly Lia remembered all those bits 
 of information she had picked up from the papers, and 
 amended: "I mean, Lord Dunayrtoun." 
 
 Now, my Master had jumped down from his place 
 in the magnificent new racer, which I had to admit was 
 a flattered likeness of my old self, and without taking 
 
 304
 
 Champion 
 
 the slightest notice of me, was shaking hands with Lia 
 and Mr. Murray. 
 
 "If you only knew how glad I am to find you 
 again!" he exclaimed heartily, his voice, which I had 
 loved, nicer than ever. "I've searched everywhere, in- 
 quired of every one, tried every way I could think of 
 to get at you, even even one way of which I'm rather 
 ashamed. But I was driven to it by desperation: I 
 put a 'personal' in my brother-in-law's paper, English 
 and Continental editions, which nearly everybody 
 seems to see." 
 
 "We contrived to miss it," said Lia, whose cheeks 
 were very pink. "Do tell us what it said." 
 
 "Oh nothing much. Only I begged that Mr. Mur- 
 ray I put initials, of course, not names, and hinted 
 at the circumstances that Mr. Murray could let me 
 know where you were. I felt we were friends, you 
 know, and I couldn't bear to lose you." 
 
 "We waited, quite near, until you were out of dan- 
 ger. Then we went away ; for you had your sister and 
 other friends, and we didn't know you long enough to 
 intrude," explained Lia. "We were awfully grieved 
 about about the race, and everything. I was sure 
 always it was treachery. I was so glad when I saw 
 in the papers that you and Mr. Vandervoorst were ma- 
 king more of the same kind of cars, and succeeding 
 so splendidly." 
 
 305
 
 Champion 
 
 "You knew all about me, and never wrote?" 
 
 "I we thought you'd have forgotten," stammered 
 Lia shyly. 
 
 He looked at her without answering. And she 
 must have seen what I saw that he loved her and 
 had been longing for her, since she had been lost. 
 But this time she grew pale, instead of pink. I felt 
 the trembling of her slim body, and the tightening of 
 her little fingers as they nervously grasped the back 
 of the seat. Then, she hurried to speak again, and 
 change the subject. "I don't know what has hap- 
 pened to us!" she laughed. "It's just as if our car 
 had stopped on purpose to say 'how do you do' to you." 
 
 (Little did she guess how near she was to the 
 truth!) 
 
 For the first time my Master glanced at me with 
 observant eyes. 
 
 "We stopped my chauffeur and I" he exclaimed, 
 "to ask if we could do anything, thinking we were of- 
 fering aid to strangers. What luck what wonderful 
 luck! that it should be you and Mr. Murray. So you 
 are regular motorists now." 
 
 "My daughter would buy this automobile second- 
 hand; and it does seem as if we hadn't made a bad 
 bargain," answered Mr. Murray. "We had it for 
 about a month, and this is the first time I've known 
 it to go wrong." 
 
 306
 
 Champion 
 
 "I took a fancy to the car, because the wheels are 
 like your first, dear old Champion, after which I hear 
 you've named all the others. By the way, what be- 
 came of it? I suppose, broken as it was, you kept it, 
 and value it still?" 
 
 My Master's handsome face changed and darkened. 
 I listened with all my valves for what he would say 
 next. The whole worth of life depended on his words 
 about me. 
 
 "Value it?" he echoed. "I have only a memory to 
 value, but that's more to me than any real car we've 
 ever made or shall make. Champion fell into an en- 
 emy's hands, Miss Murray, and was burnt in his 
 garage, whether through malice or not, who knows? 
 One can only suspect. But I regret that first love of 
 mine as if, in losing it, I'd lost my right hand. And I 
 believe I'd have given my right hand to keep that car. 
 It was like finding I had lost part of myself when I 
 woke up to consciousness and learned that Champion 
 had been destroyed." 
 
 "I didn't know it had been burned," said Lia, her 
 voice a little unsteady, in her sympathy with Hugh. 
 "I hoped you had got the car again." 
 
 "No. And nothing can ever make up to me for its 
 loss," my Master answered. "Unless one thing." 
 
 "What thing?" questioned Lia. 
 
 "A thing I don't suppose I dare hope for." 
 
 307
 
 Champion 
 
 "Winning another race?" 
 
 "No. Not a race. Perhaps I'll tell you some time 
 if you're really interested. For now that I've found 
 you I don't mean to let you go you and Mr. Mur- 
 ray, of course." 
 
 Lia laughed a sweet little, nervous laugh. "Well," 
 she said, for the sake of saying something quickly, "I 
 don't see any signs just at present that we shall ever 
 go anywhere." 
 
 "That reminds me that I must help your chauffeur," 
 exclaimed Hugh. "He doesn't seem to have found out 
 yet what's the matter." And he glanced at Krumm, 
 who was looking at me stupidly under the bonnet. 
 
 So absorbed had he been in the girl, that so far 
 Hugh's eyes had not traveled much farther than the 
 crowns on my panels, but now they suddenly fell 
 upon the wheels of which Lia had spoken. Startled, 
 he bent down and stared at them. When he rose, 
 though he said nothing, his eyes were dilated, and 
 there was an odd, tight look about his lips. 
 
 "Will you let me have a glance at the motor?" he 
 asked quietly of Krumm. 
 
 The chauffeur stood aside ; and once more my metal 
 thrilled under the touch of the hands I had loved and 
 lost the hands that had fashioned me. 
 
 Hugh's eyes saw me, and in an instant were con- 
 vinced. In spite of himself, he uttered a faint cry. 
 
 308
 
 Champion 
 
 "What is it?" asked Lia quickly. 
 
 "Nothing much," he said, in a choked voice. How 
 could he claim me now when I was her car, bought 
 with her father's money. But he knew me, I was sure 
 of that now knew me for his own. And I was no 
 longer jealous of the new Champions, not even the 
 giant racer, for even if I were not to belong to him 
 again had he not said no other car could be to him 
 what I was? 
 
 "Is the motor badly injured?" Lia went on. 
 
 "No, not at all," he replied almost mechanically. 
 
 She jumped down from the tonneau, where she had 
 been sitting, and came to his side. 
 
 "You're looking at that queer little Greek word 
 on the motor!" she cried. "I've often noticed it. I 
 call it the car's birthmark." 
 
 "So it is," said Hugh. 
 
 "You must tell me what it is. Why, you you 
 recognize it. Oh, I must know, now. Can it be " 
 
 "It's Champion," Hugh told her, the answer dragged 
 from him. "I knew the motor instantly, of course, 
 and that's his name in Greek, which I scratched there 
 the day before the motor was mounted on the chassis. 
 My blessed old Champion, he wasn't burnt up, after 
 all, in that beast's garage. Some one must have trans- 
 formed him, for who knows what purpose, but here 
 he is." 
 
 309
 
 Champion 
 
 "It's Fate," exclaimed Lia. "Fate took us to the 
 right place to find him, and made us buy him to give 
 him back to you again. For, of course, we'll do that, 
 won't we, Dad?" 
 
 "Of course," said Mr. Murray. 
 
 "Of course not; he's yours now, and I'm delighted 
 that he should be yours," Hugh protested, his hand 
 laid lovingly on my birthmark. 
 
 But that evening, after dusk, in the deserted make- 
 shift garage of the village inn, where they all put up 
 for the night because naturally Hugh turned round, 
 and went with the Murrays he and Lia sat together 
 on my front seat, while the moon came up over the 
 trees and peered at them and me. He told her what 
 it was he wanted to win, and she told him that it was 
 already won. So there was no longer any question as 
 to which should be my owner. I belonged to them 
 both, and when they had decided their own future 
 they decided mine. I was to be remade in my old 
 form, and be again the Champion I had been. 
 
 "I've made nothing to touch him," said my Master 
 again, "and he and I will win a race together yet." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 310
 
 WHAT THE REVIEWERS SAID 
 
 About the Novel 
 
 THE LION AND THE MOUSE 
 
 Novelized from Charles Klein's great play 
 By ARTHUR HORNBLOW 
 
 " Mr. Hornblow has done his work with creditable 
 aptitude. He is successful where success is most 
 important in keeping up the reader's suspense, in 
 working effectively toward the climax. The book 
 
 " Mr. Hornblow has made his novelization of an 
 enormously successful play in a workmanlike man- 
 ner. The story, like the play, belongs to -this very 
 minute. It is full of a spirit and a feeling that are 
 
 " Undoubtedly the book of the hour. Both the 
 novel and the play appeal to the widest possible 
 American public. The novelist gives more of the 
 interesting story and has enhanced the virility and 
 
 " * The Lion and the Mouse,' as a novel, more 
 than maintains the reputation of its author as a clean* 
 cut exposition of throbbing American life by a real 
 novelist. Mr. Hornblow knows his subject and has 
 
 "Will become the most talked-of book of the 
 year. . . . As exciting and fascinating a narrative 
 as has appeared in novel form in years." 
 
 " Mr. Hornblow's book is written in distinguished 
 English ; its chapters are chiselled to exact propor- 
 tions ; its story is clear and limpid ; particularly are 
 its characters cleverly vivid, and with few exceptions 
 tell themselves in the dialogue more plainly than they could with ever 
 so much extrinsic aid of psychic and physical description. The Ameri- 
 can nation is indebted to him. He has clothed with the vibrant palpi- 
 tating flesh of life-interest the greatest economic problem and evil of the 
 day. It is a book to make the multitude think."
 
 WHAT THE CRITICS SAT OF 
 
 A SPECKLED BIRD 
 
 By AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON 
 
 " Mrs. Wilson is not a novelist that writes hastily. It is 
 years since she gave her last book, ' At the Mercy of Tiberius,' to the 
 world, and now she comes ' to those kind readers, known and unknown, 
 who have desired her to write again,' with a story as vigorous, as pas- 
 sionate and as compelling in its interest as any that has ever proceeded 
 from her pen." Charleston News and Courier. 
 
 " There is a tragic under current in it all, like a Maeterlinck theme, 
 a passionate note of sorrow, a story of intense dramatic interest that 
 never loosens its hold upon the reader for a moment, while it ends 
 happily. " Birmingham Age-Herald, 
 
 " This new romance will possess for us a charm not unlike that 
 which we would feel if Sir Walter Scott could in some way dictate 
 another romance through some occult medium and give it to the world. 
 ' A Speckled Bird ' is an absorbing romance well worthy of this de- 
 lightful Southern writer." Memphis Commercial Appeal. 
 
 " Her style is easy and her imagination never falters. It cannot be 
 denied that her school is an ethical force, for by it a great circle receives 
 fiction which ever teaches the triumph of righteousness and the ruin of 
 wrong." Boston Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " There is not one perfunctory word in it. Mrs. Wilson's view of 
 life and her attitude toward her characters are never blase. She ex- 
 hibits extreme solicitude about the destiny of her men and women, and 
 by that unfeigned interest she succeeds in compelling interest on the 
 part of her reader hardly second to her own." Chicago Daily Tribune. 
 
 "It is a piece of work far better than many of the ' best selling 
 novels' of recent seasons. Mrs. Wilson proves that she is a vigorous 
 and able veteran of letters, and it will be welcomed by all the quondam 
 admirers of ' St. Elmo.' They are legion." 
 
 ELEANOR M. HOYT, in The Book Buyer. 
 
 " Far above the average work of fiction." Louisville Courier- Journal. 
 " How absolutely sweet and clean and wholesome is the atmosphere 
 of the story ! It could not be anything else and come from her pen." 
 
 Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 " We like the stately, old-fashioned way, with honest intensities, and 
 we have read with pleasure and admiration ' A Speckled Bird,' by 
 Augusta Evans Wilson. Augusta Evans a strong and a known name, 
 in sound and in memory significant of power." N. Y. Sun. 
 
 Hundreds of testimonials pronounce it as standing in 
 the highest rank of modern fiction*
 
 What Critics Say of 
 
 "THE BLACK MOTOR CAR" 
 
 By HARRIS BURLAND 
 
 "Anger, malice, and all uncharitableness figure largely in this 
 sensational novel, set to a modern keynote, that of a motor car. An 
 embezzler entered prison, a man who had lost his honor, but retained 
 many good traits. After fourteen years he emerged a ravening beast, 
 and began to take his revenge on the world." The Outlook. 
 
 "A melodramatic story of the intense and lurid kind, with not 
 much motoring in it until the last chapter, which is given to a thrilling 
 description of a night ride for life, ending in tragedy." 
 
 Philadelphia Evening Telegraph. 
 
 " There is something fascinating before opening the book to glance 
 at the outside cover and absorb the meaning of a striking picture of a 
 gleaming auto with its eyes of fire generated through headlights, while 
 on the driver's seat sits a black-bearded man with a sinister aspect that 
 at once suggests action. The story develops in aristocratic England, and 
 there is plenty of coloring and rapid-fire action." Portland Oregonian. 
 
 "There is a 'go' in Harris Burland's novel 'The Black Motor 
 Car' as well as in the car itself. There are 'things doing' in every 
 chapter. " Cleveland Plaindealer. 
 
 ' ' The author manages to keep one's interest at fever height until 
 the very last line. It is a rapid transit romance with a vengeance." 
 
 Philadelphia Item. 
 
 " In the way of exciting fiction there could be nothing more dis- 
 creetly sensational than this story. It fairly bristles with wonderful 
 incidents in which a woman who has betrayed a lover, dishonest for her 
 sake, is pursued relentlessly by her victim. Those who like their fiction 
 well spiced with stirring and surprising incident will appreciate this 
 remarkable story." Boston Budget and Beacon. 
 
 " Excitement, mystery and horror in every chapter, sensational 
 developments following each other in rapid succession, make up a story 
 that will delight anyone who loves exciting literature. The plot is a 
 cross work of various interests and the story is well written. The 
 interest is^sustained to the last." Louisville Courier-Journal. 
 
 " We would not like to say how many automobile stories are now in 
 course of construction, but it is safe to give the opinion that not one 
 will be more hair-raising than Mr. Burland's book." Rochester Herald. 
 
 " Highly sensational, with a plot full of surprises and crammed 
 with excitement from start to finish, the book may be recommended to 
 those who like a story which travels at a whirling pace." 
 
 Boston Herald. 
 
 " Suspense and horror compel the reading of this story to the very 
 last word. The events related are of so novel and exciting a character 
 and follow each other with such rapidity that when the final climax is 
 reached the reader feels as if he, too, had been whirled along in the mad 
 flight of the terrible car with its fierce and gloomy owner." 
 
 Utica Observer. 
 120*0, 5 j x 7j inches, 339 pages, cloth bound, illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
 
 What Critics Say of 
 
 "THE RECORDS" 
 
 By CYRUS TO WSEND BRADY 
 
 " The popularity of Dr. Brady's writings is in many respects well 
 deserved. His narrative does not drag, his style is clear, nothing is 
 wasted on ornament, his ideas are sharply defined and his incidents have 
 a human interest that compels attention." Baltimore Sun. 
 
 " Narrated with grace and facility. There is no attempt at morali- 
 zation, no probing of problems psychic or psychological. It is a 
 volume of plain tales for every-day readers, told in a plain and every-day 
 style." The Literary Digest. 
 
 " No more careful work is discoverable in Dr. Brady's writings 
 anywhere. ' The Levite,' one of the Records, would alone justify the 
 publication of this volume. One is forcibly reminded of Charles Reade's 
 exclamation against ' prurient prudery ' in realizing that such a story 
 could not find a place in any of the leading magazines of the country. 
 These ' records ' have humor, pathos and dramatic action, and each of 
 them is well rounded and not merely episodical." Philadelphia Press. 
 
 "Like the escaped prisoner from the Chateau d'lf, this author's fancy 
 ranges free the world is his from which to call such blossoms as he 
 will. He has the art of the story-teller, in no ordinary degree of 
 development, withal, and can spin an attractive yarn from slender 
 or unpromising materials as easily as a motor car spins along the 
 highway." Philadelphia North American. 
 
 "The book exemplifies the saw about the superior strangeness of 
 truth. All the incidents are exciting and they reveal many phases of 
 life and many sides of character." The Cleveland Leader. 
 
 "So well and so favorably is this author known in every home 
 throughout the whole world by his numerous meritorious works that 
 it is only necessary to disclose the fact of his having written a new 
 book to be assured of its instantaneous popularity and wide, ever- 
 increasing distribution." New York American. 
 
 "His characters are clearly outlined, and in putting them through 
 their paces the author writes with capital spirits. His episodes are 
 sufficiently striking and he states them briefly. The book is clever and 
 entertaining." New York Tribune. 
 
 "Advise you to read 'The Records.' In fact, advise you to read 
 anything of Brady's that comes your way. It's good meat with a 
 gristle to it, and when you buy a book you want something more than 
 paper to chew on." The Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 Fourteen Full Page Illustrations by Louis D. Arata. 
 12*10,5% x 7> inches, 321 pages, cloth bound, $1.30. 
 
 G. W. DUXINGHAM CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
 
 Mighty High Praise of 
 
 "REAL BOYS" 
 
 A Book about Real Boys to carry old Boys back to Boyhood days. 
 
 " This morning I'm feeling ' pert and sassy,' because I have just 
 finished Judge Shute's ' Real Boys.' And they are real boys. I know 
 'em and played with 'em, even if they have different names. You will 
 say the same thing too, and find boyish counterparts for Plupy and 
 Pewt, Skinny all the long roll, in fact. What they did, too, will be 
 paralleled in our own experiences and remembrances. It's a book to read 
 and laugh at and sigh over now, and to dip into for a Ponce de Leon 
 literary rejuvenation every time you feel particularly old." 
 
 LITERARY EDITOR, The Cleveland Leader. 
 
 "Any one who has ever been a real boy, and wants to renew his 
 youth, or any one who has never been a real boy and wants to imagine 
 how it feels, had better read Henry Shute's book of reminiscences of 
 'Real Boys.'" Philadelphia Evening Telegraph. 
 
 " It describes boy life, presented from a man's point of view. It 
 was back in the sixties when these ' real boys ' flourished, ' in the good 
 old days when men of substance wore black broadcloth frock coats of 
 wondrous sheen and velvety softness, and light, almost white, trousers, 
 which hung in folds about their manly legs. When lofty and ofttimes 
 shiny domes of thought were surmounted by tall beaver plugs of great 
 price, while their feet were brave in closely fitting calfskin boots, which 
 were always kept in the highest state of polish.' It is animated with a 
 keen sense of humor and still further enlivened with the touch of human 
 nature which make these pictures of boyhood complete." Toledo Blade. 
 
 " * Real Boys ' evidently was written by Judge Henry A. Shute for the 
 delectation of old boys who were once real boys, and that they will thor- 
 oughly enjoy it we are convinced, in spite of the fact that it describes 
 New Hampshire boys in particular. Their traits are much the same 
 everywhere." The Rochester Herald. 
 
 "As amusing as its predecessors, ' The Diary of a Real Boy' and 
 4 Sequil.' It is a delightful volume. It will please all ages and all 
 tastes. It would be difficult to read it without smiling and sighing, 
 while the one pathetic chapter will cause many an eye to moisten." 
 
 Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 " There is something essentially human in every page of the book, 
 and readers of all ages will be carried back to boyhood days, and find 
 delight, not only in the pranks of these wholesome youths, but in the 
 habits, dress and customs which the author describes so faithfully." 
 
 The Boston Herald. 
 
 Full of that little touch of nature that ' makes the whole world 
 kin.' " Worcester Gazette. 
 
 Embellished with nearly 40 illustrations by F. R. Gruger. $1.25. 
 
 G. W. DILLDMGHAM CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
 
 What the Critics say of 
 
 Chip of the Flying U. 
 
 By B. M. BOWER. 
 
 " ' Chip ' is all right. Better than ' The Virginian.' " 
 
 Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 " The name of B. M. Bower will stand for something readable in 
 the estimation of every man, and most every woman, who reads this fine 
 new story of Montana ranch and its dwellers." Publisher &* Retailer. 
 
 " Its qualities and merit can be summed up in the brief but suffi- 
 cient statement that it is thoroughly delightful." 
 
 Albany Times-Union. 
 
 " For strength of interest, vivid description, clever and convincing 
 character, drawing and literary merit it is the surprise of the year." 
 
 Walderis Stationer and Printer. 
 
 "It is an appealing story told in an active style which fairly 
 sparkles in reproducing the atmosphere of the wild and woolly West. It 
 is consistently forceful and contains a quantity of refreshing comedy." 
 
 Philadelphia Prest. 
 " Bound to stand among the famous novels of the year." 
 
 Baltimore American. 
 
 " ' The Virginian' has found many imitators, but few authors have 
 come as near duplicating Owen Wister's magnetic hero as has B. M. 
 Bower, ' Chip of the Flying U.' " Philadelphia Item. 
 
 "B. M. Bower has portrayed but few characters, but these he has 
 pictured with the strong and yet delicate stroke of a true master. The 
 atmosphere of the West is perfect ; one sees and feels the vibrant, vital 
 life of the ranch activities all through the telling of the story." 
 
 Cincinnati Times-Star. 
 
 " It brims over with humor showing the bright and laughing side of 
 ranch life. It is a story which will delightfully entertain the reader." 
 
 Portia nd Journal. 
 
 " The story contains strength of interest, vivid descriptions, clever 
 and convincing character drawing and literary merits, and the author lays 
 on the colors with a master's touch." Albany Evening Journal. 
 
 I2mo, Cloth Bound, Color ttlustrations, $135 
 
 G. W. DELLINGHAM OX, Publishers, NEW YORK
 
 WHAT CRITICS SAY OK 
 
 Three Daughters of the Confederacy 
 
 BY CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY. 
 
 rt Will doubtless take a high rank among his other brilliant productions." 
 
 Savannah News. 
 
 "Contains some excellent descriptions of battle, and there are stirring incidents 
 not a few to fire the reader's blood." Newark Evening News. 
 
 " Will add to his reputation as a writer of delightful romance/ 1 Bookseller^ 
 Newsdealer and Stationer. 
 
 " The pages are illuminated here and there by telling bits of personal descrip- 
 tion of such men as Lincoln, Grant, Sheridan, Lee, Jackson, and the whole book is 
 pervaded by a delightful and refreshing humor. "New Orleans Picayune. 
 
 "Is breezily told with a deal of salt in the breeze with characteristic 
 Bradyesqueness." St. Louis Republic. 
 
 " Mr. Brady has given more of his attention to the love making of his charac- 
 ters, 'and the intrigue of war, than to his horrors and gruesome details. Mr. 
 Brady's book Is not the less desirable because it is written in lighter vein, smelling 
 rather of the orange blossom than of gunpowder." Seattle Past-Intelligencer. 
 
 " Dr. Brady's history is true, his military and naval tactics official, and his 
 incidents and characters full of entertainment." Cleveland Leader. 
 
 " In his new book he tells three separate and distinct stories, and you will not 
 only wish there was more to each, but you will probably take up the book and read 
 at least one of them over again. They certainly were sweet and lovable girls, 
 were these three daughters of the ' lost cause,' who sacrificed so much for their 
 country, and yet won so much in the end." The Rochester Herald. 
 
 " It is a pleasure to read the book, it is so refined in purpose and manner. Its 
 characters are the clean, honorable American men and women who fought on both 
 sides of the Civil War, and rendered efficient help as non-combatants." Montgom- 
 ery Advertiser. 
 
 " ' Three Daughters of the Confederacy' seems to tell a story in itself. It is a 
 tale of the war ia which love and hatred, pathos and patriotism bled, and the 
 author has given some excellent sidelights on the contest whose echoes still ring. 
 A rattling good story." Philadelphia Inquirer. 
 
 " The three heroines are charming as only the girls of the Southland can be, 
 and each one of them was devoted to the cause of the Confederacy during the War 
 of the Rebellion. Mr. Brady makes good use of the scenes of war in his novels, 
 finding in them material for many remarkable adventures, and his descriptions of 
 men and battles are always read with both interest and profit." Milwaukee 
 Evening Wisconsin. 
 
 " No Northern writer has held forth more sanely upon the great issues, nor 
 done more to cement the love interests of the North and South than Brady. Where 
 find we more glowing tributes to the charming girls who live in Dixie than fall 
 from this genial author's versatile pen ? "Club Fellow. 
 
 Illustrated with Six Beautiful, Three Color Pictures by Marchand. 
 Beautifully bound in Cloth. Price $1.50. 
 
 G.W. DILLINGHAM CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
 
 WHAT THE FOREIGN PRESS SAYS OF 
 
 THE CORNER IN COFFEE 
 
 By CYRVS TOWNSEND BRADY 
 
 The London Guardian says: " A delightful story of commerce and 
 love, describing how Elijah D. Tillotson cornered the coffee market in 
 New York, and then gallantly broke up his own ' corner ' rather than 
 ruin Constance Livingstone; and how Constance Livingstone ran the 
 gauntlet of Society. Mr. Brady rightly rejoices that he has given us in 
 Constance Livingstone, the heiress leader of New York Society, a heroine 
 of thirty-five, and delightful she is, possessed of many mature charms, a 
 ripe experience, a comprehensive wardrobe, and a dainty ankle; and in 
 addition sound qualities of head and heart that cause her to see below 
 the surface of Society and appreciate the real and not the sham man. 
 Brightly written, the dialogue sparkling with humor, full of incident and 
 action, ' The Corner in Coffee ' should find considerable favor in 
 England; in America it should prove a sensation. The pictures of Wall 
 Street are graphically drawn; and the criticism of all corners and trusts 
 should gratify the popular taste." 
 
 The Glasgow Herald says: " Both sides of the romance, the sensa- 
 tional and the speculative, are equally well managed. Mr. Brady is 
 master of the intricacies of woman's ways and of Wall Street, and the 
 reader imbibes knowledge while he enjoys a cleverly constructed and 
 exciting story." 
 
 The Edinburgh Scotsman says: "Not many British clergymen 
 would dare to tackle a subject of this kind. But they look at things 
 differently in the States, and it must be acknowledged that, wherever he 
 has got his information, Mr. Brady shows familiarity with the ways of 
 Wall Street. The story has a good deal of go, and will have an attraction 
 for readers who dabble in the Stock Exchange. The illustrations suggest 
 very effectively some stirring passages of the text." 
 
 The London Morning News says: "A well written story of love 
 and Wall Street, a story that marks its author as possessed of much 
 constructive as well as dramatic ability. It runs with vigor from start 
 to finish, and Elijah D. Tillotson ought to take rank among the true 
 gentlemen of fiction." 
 
 Fourth Edition. Illustrated, ismo, cloth bound. $1.50. 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM CCX, Publishers, NEW YORK
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000 039 367 8