Rupert turned a hard dark eye upon him.
"I ain't pining for this," he signified measuredly. "But there's something coming to any decent car, and this one's suffered cruel."
Gerard nodded.
"I have been wondering where I could find a mechanician fit to race with Corrie this season," he confided, nonchalantly serene.
The double bombshell dealt full effect.
"Well, rest yourself," urged Rupert tartly, leaving his seat. "I'll do it. I know I'm a liar, I guess, but that won't hurt my work none."
"Race?" gasped Corrie. "Race? I!"
One rebel vanquished utterly, Gerard surveyed the other, preparing for his first conflict with the new Corrie Rose he had himself created; the Corrie Rose who in his twentieth year was a full-grown man.
"I have had you and the car entered for the Indianapolis meet, next month," he announced; "after that we are going to Georgia, then down to try the sea-beach along the Florida shore, where you can let out all the speed the machine has got. Of course you will race. What else have you been training for?"
Corrie's full red lips closed, his blue eyes braved Gerard's.