FROM THE CAR
BEHIND

SECOND EDITION

BY

ELEANOR M. INGRAM

AUTHOR OF
"THE FLYING MERCURY," "THE GAME OR THE CANDLE," ETC.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR
BY JAMES MONTGOMERY FLAGG

PHILADELPHIA & LONDON
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

1912

COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY, 1912
PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY 15, 1912
SECOND PRINTING FEBRUARY 20, 1912

PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS
PHILADELPHIA, U.S.A.

To My Dear
and
Gracious Mother

CONTENTS

CHAPTERPAGE

1. The Kid Amateur 11
2. Corrie and his Other Fellow 25
3. The Household of Roses 42
4. Isabel 73
5. The Vase of Al-Mansor 91
6. Wreck 117
7. "The Greatest of These" 137
8. Aftermath 152
9. The House at the Turn 162
10. Sentence of Error 171
11. Gerard's Man 188
12. The Making Good 201
13. The Titan's Driver 212
14. Val de Rosas 233
15. The Strength of Ten 250
16. The White Road of Honor 267
17. The End of the Road 300

ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

• Frontispiece The People Burst Out Over the Course and Overwhelmed the Victors
• 14 Giddy, She Willingly Suffered His Support, then Drew Back, Her Color Returning Vividly
• 78 "Wipe It Off," She Requested Resignedly, "Wipe It Off and Never Tell"

I

THE KID AMATEUR

Gerard paused on the steps of the cement plateau overlooking the racetrack, his eyebrows lifting in the wave of humor glinting across his face like sunlight over quiet water.

"What?" he wondered. "Who——"

The grinning mechanician who had just come across from the row of training-camps opposite supplied the information.

"Oh, that's Rose's rose. Ain't he awful tweet?" he mocked.

Gerard continued to smile, but his clear amber eyes grew keenly appraising as they followed the flight of the rose-colored racing car around the circular track.

"He can drive," he gave laconic verdict.

"Sure," assented the mechanician. "But he'll be the last rose of summer, all right, when the race comes off. He'll not last twenty-four hours—a kid amateur. If you ain't coming over, I'll lead myself back to my job."

"You never can tell," warned Gerard, tolerantly. "No, I'm not coming over, Rupert; run along."

He moved over to one of the grand-stand seats, as he spoke, and sat down, leaning on the rail with an easy movement of his supple figure. That was the first characteristic strangers usually noted in him: an exquisite Hellenic grace of strength and faultless proportion. He was a man's beauty, as distinguished from a beauty-man; other men were given to admiring him extravagantly and unresentfully. Unresentfully, because of his utter practicality and matter-of-fact atmosphere.

The afternoon sunshine glittered goldenly across the huge, green field and the mile track circling it, where four racing cars sped in practice contest. Two of them were painted gray, one was dingy-white; the fourth shone in