“He will be your chief competitor, I am afraid. If you beat him, you will win. I feel sure of that.”
“Possibly,” assented Stanley Downs thoughtfully. “It is said this Columbiad is a terror. I suppose Burnham is a good driver?”
“One of the best in the country, dad says. He’s cool, strong, and he has no nerves. Dad has told me of the way he held his own against some of the rough men at the mines in days gone by. It is because he is so brave and powerful that dad likes him, I think.”
“Well, I’ll try to beat him,” smiled Stanley.
“You must do it!” she whispered tensely. “If he should win this race I would be afraid of him. He would come to me, and—and——”
“Marry you by force? Hardly that, I think. We don’t do that kind of thing nowadays. Besides, your father can take care of you. Why should you fear this fellow?”
“I don’t know why I should, but I do,” she confessed. “He has a way of carrying things before him in a savage way that gets him what he wants. If you beat him, he will not have an excuse to annoy me.”
Stanley was rather astonished that this plucky young girl should show so much terror. He had seen her driving her big car down the winding road, showing no actual fear, even when it was inevitable that she should plunge into the lake. Yet now, as she talked of this Victor Burnham, she trembled so that she could hardly stand, and her voice quivered pitifully.
“I’ll take care of Mr. Burnham, both on the track and elsewhere, if it should be necessary,” Stanley assured her.
Hardly were the words out of his mouth, when a footstep close by made him turn. He looked straight into the malevolent eyes of the man he had been talking about.