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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..297a828 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67571 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67571) diff --git a/old/67571-0.txt b/old/67571-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cdf9f36..0000000 --- a/old/67571-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4883 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Black Tiger, by Patrick O'Connor - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Black Tiger - -Author: Patrick O'Connor - -Illustrator: Ray Campbell - -Release Date: March 6, 2022 [eBook #67571] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was - produced from images made available by the HathiTrust - Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK TIGER *** - - - - - - THE BLACK TIGER - - By PATRICK O'CONNOR - - IVES WASHBURN, INC. - NEW YORK - - COPYRIGHT © 1956 BY IVES WASHBURN, INC. - - All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce - this book, or parts thereof, in any form, except - for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. - - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - _Dedicated_ - - to Bill and Steve Dredge and the - happy fraternity of sports-car racing - drivers in the United States of America. - Also to their hero mechanics. - - _Also by Patrick O'Connor_ - - THE SOCIETY OF FOXES - FLIGHT OF THE PEACOCK - THE WATERMELON MYSTERY - - - - - THE BLACK TIGER - - - - - 1 - - -Woody Hartford, seated upon a four-legged stool of uncertain design, -examined the pieces of a carburetor that lay on a bench before him, and -contemplated a problem of the nicest delicacy. - -The problem had nothing to do with the carburetor. Woody at seventeen -could put that back together without even thinking of what he was -doing. He'd cleaned and adjusted a score of them since he first started -working at McNess Union Service Station, Hermosa Beach, California, -two years ago. The problem concerned the matter of whether to spend -ten dollars on Cindy Lou or on Mary Jane. It was not one that could be -lightly decided. - -There were, Woody was dimly aware, certain ethical factors involved. -Cindy Lou needed the money spent on her in the worst way. On the other -hand, if Mary Jane ever found out about it, she would, in a ladylike -manner, raise a great deal of trouble. - -Again, if, to avoid strained relations with Mary Jane, Woody spent the -money on her, it would be a long time before he would have a ten spot -to spend on Cindy Lou. - -"A guy with a hot rod and thirty bucks a week," Woody said to the float -chamber of the carburetor, "has no right having a girl friend, too. -On the other hand," he added, "a guy with a hot rod is going to wind -up with a girl friend whether he wants one or not. There's no arguing -about that." - -He sighed, reached for one of a number of remarkably dirty rags on the -workbench, and thrust it into the float chamber of the carburetor. He'd -have used a clean rag if one was available. Clean rags were delivered -every Monday to the McNess Union Service Station, but Mondays were -Woody's days off. When he arrived for work on Tuesday the rags were all -uniformly dirty. This was one of the minor oddities about the service -station that Woody had long ago ceased to trouble himself over. - -Cindy Lou was Woody's hot rod. Or to be more precise, she was Woody's -1940 Ford coupé, which he was converting into a hot rod with the hope -one day of competing in drag races. He'd already milled her head, -worked over the chassis, changed the gear ratio, and moved the engine -so that it was no longer in front of the driver's seat. Instead it was -alongside the driver, and separated from the driver by a makeshift -firewall. All that was needed now was to buy a four-carburetor manifold -and Woody figured that Cindy Lou would hit a hundred miles an hour in -a quarter mile from a standing start. A hundred miles an hour wasn't -championship speed or anything like it. Some of the boys were getting a -hundred and thirty out of their mills. But it would be good for Cindy -Lou, and with more expansive engine modifications, it could be improved -even further. - -But the final payment on the carburetor rig, secondhand, would cost ten -bucks. And Mary Jane was expecting to be taken out that night with the -same ten bucks. - -"Maybe," said Woody hopefully, still cleaning the float chamber, "I -could give the guy five on the manifold and squeak by with Mary Jane -on the other five." But he knew even as he said it that the compromise -wouldn't work. Bob Peters, who had the manifold, wanted cash and spoke -darkly of several other offers. And Mary Jane wasn't the kind of girl -you could take to the corner drugstore for a lemon coke, then to the -movies, and call it an evening. - -Every now and then Mary Jane got it into her head that she wanted -to go out in style. And Woody knew he'd better take her. She went -through phases of being very sophisticated and looked upon drugstore -entertainment as kid stuff. During her sophisticated intervals, she -read books by Aldous Huxley and talked about the social obligations of -the upper strata. - -At such times, and this was one of them, Mary Jane didn't want to hear -a word about Cindy Lou, in which she was normally interested. And the -mention of carburetors and manifolds left her slightly hostile. - -The telephone rang, interrupting Woody's reflections. He wiped his -hands briefly on his khaki pants, got down off the stool, and went over -to the phone, which was fastened to a wall of the garage. - -"McNess Union Service Station," he said into the mouthpiece. - -"Hi," said a cheerful voice at the other end. "That you, Woody?" - -"Yep." - -"How are things?" - -Things, Woody replied, rubbing the end of his nose with an -oil-blackened hand, were pretty good. He knew what was coming. Bob was -on the line and after a little more palaver would want to know whether -he was going to hand over the final payment on the manifold. Bob was -never one to get right to the point. He was studying salesmanship and -had read somewhere that most big sales were made in the course of -friendly discussions with clients about their own problems and affairs. -So Bob asked Woody whether he felt good and whether his dad was in -good health and had he gone to the dry lakes racecourse last weekend -and what he thought of the weather. Woody replied noncommittally to -all these inquiries while he weighed Cindy Lou in the balance against -Mary Jane. Finally Bob decided that he'd done enough of the friendly -discussion part of salesmanship and should get down to the point. - -"Say, Woody," he said, "I don't want you to get the idea that I'm -rushing you. But I've had a couple of offers for that manifold, and I -was wondering whether you could give me the last payment and pick it up -today. I'd like to have you have it rather than these other guys, but I -need the dough today." - -"Wouldn't settle for five now and five next payday, would you?" asked -Woody. - -"No," said Bob. "I'd like to oblige a pal. But I've got a real hot deal -on myself, and I've got to have the skins." - -"O.K.," said Woody. "I'll pay it off." - -"Swell," said Bob. "You going to be there this evening?" - -"Until seven," Woody replied. - -"I'll buzz by with the plumbing and pick up the dough about six-thirty. -S'long." - -"S'long," said Woody and put down the receiver. - -Only when he had hung up did he realize the enormity of his offense. -Without consulting her, he had in one second rejected Mary Jane for -Cindy Lou. And Mary Jane was definitely expecting to be taken out that -night. When he'd paid for the manifold, he would have exactly one -dollar and fifteen cents left. That was not sufficient for even a -lemon-coke-and-movie evening. - -Furthermore there wasn't any hope of raising a loan this late in the -day. Woody's father, who would be good for a loan after a slight -lecture, was out of town. His mother, he knew, had only three or four -dollars of housekeeping money around and probably needed that. And Worm -McNess, proprietor of the McNess Union Service Station and Woody's -boss, was as tight as a tappet. His idea of a loan was fifty cents, and -Woody needed at least seven or eight dollars. - -Worm McNess came by his nickname fairly enough. His full name was -William Orville Randolph McNess, the initials spelling "Worm." But -beyond that he was long and thin, rather as if a piece of spaghetti -had been brought to man size and given human features and limbs. And -over and above all, this Worm could wiggle and twist around a car in -positions next to impossible for mechanics built on more normal lines. - -Woody liked Worm. He was a good boss with a quiet sense of humor and -an inexhaustible knowledge of the insides of automobiles. Woody could -never make up his mind whether Worm really liked cars or not. He seemed -to view them all with a certain contempt. "Bucket" was his terse term -for any automobile brought into the service station for repair--though -it was a term he did not use in the presence of the owner. Cadillacs, -Thunderbirds, or Chevvies--all were buckets to Worm. Yet he worked on -them with the greatest care, and when he was through, had always done -an expert job. It was hard for Woody to understand why he viewed all -automobiles with such contempt and yet worked on them with such care. - -Worm was putting the pan back on a Chevvy now--the same car whose -carburetor Woody was busy cleaning. He rolled out from underneath, -got to his feet somewhat unsteadily, and hunched his thin shoulders -forward. This done, he reached gingerly with two long greasy fingers -into the breast pocket of his shirt and took out a cigarette. - -"Hurry oop wi' yon carburetor and let's get this bucket o' bolts oot of -here," he said. His accent, after fifteen years in America, was still -straight from Aberdeen, Scotland. - -Woody by now had the carburetor back together again and got busy -installing it. All the time he kept wondering whether he ought to -call Bob Peters and tell him he found he hadn't the dough and the -manifold deal was off. Or whether he ought to call Mary Jane and tell -her something had come up and he couldn't take her out that night. Or -whether, just on the chance that this was a day for miracles, he ought -to ask Worm for a loan of six or seven bucks. - -He decided, since Worm was close at hand and relaxing with his -cigarette, that he'd try him first. - -"Say, Worm," he said in as offhand a manner as he could manage, "how -about letting me have a couple of bucks until payday?" - -"Bucket o' bolts," he said ignoring the question completely and shaking -his head more in sorrow than in anger over the Chevvy. "Mon, they ought -to take the poor beastie and gie her a decent Christian burial. She's -eighty thousand miles on her if she's been driven a yard." - -Woody was used to these tactics and knew what to do about them. He -said nothing for a minute or two while he connected the gas line to the -carburetor. Then he said, "How about letting me have a couple of bucks -until payday, Worm?" - -"It's a wonder her wheels aren't square," said Worm, concentrating with -great determination on the car. "I tell you, laddie, there's no one but -McNess could have got her running again." - -"You could take it all out of the first pay check," Woody persisted. - -"Her cylinders have been bored so many times, her pistons will be -slapping aroond in water before long." - -"Worm, I just got to have the dough." - -"Hoot, laddie. What's all your concern aboot money? Ye'll only be -spending it. When I served my apprenticeship in Aberdeen, I worked five -years without getting a nickel." - -Woody sighed. "O.K.," he said. "Forget it." - -So easy a victory disturbed Worm. He felt that he had been perhaps -something less than generous. He was sensitive about being considered -tight with money (undoubtedly because this was the truth) and would -tell anyone who was prepared to listen that the Highland Scots are the -most generous people in the world. He was a Highland Scot. - -"Ah weel," he said, "I recall as a laddie that it was hard to be -walking around without a groat to comfort me fist with. How much do ye -want?" - -"Six or seven bucks," said Woody. He hoped for ten, but it was a -desperate hope. - -"Whist, mon," said Worm, a look between astonishment and outrage -showing in his pale blue eyes. "Do ye think I'm the Bank of England? -I'll let ye have two dollars to payday and not a penny more." - -He went over to the cash box, opened it as if it were the main vault of -Morgan's bank on Wall Street, and came back with a dollar bill and some -silver in his hand. He gave Woody the dollar, solemnly pronouncing the -word "One" and then counted out three quarters, two dimes, and a nickel. - -"Ye'll be takin out yere lassie, nae doot," he said when this was done. - -"Not on this," said Woody. He didn't want to sound ungrateful, but the -money was just not enough. - -"Laddie," said Worm, "I'm a man that knows a great deal aboot -womenfolk. And there's naething truer aboot them than that if they -really love ye, they'll be wanting ye to save yere money and not go -splashing it around on them." - -Woody wondered what kind of girl friends they had in Scotland when Worm -was a boy. Mary Jane wasn't a gold digger. But she liked to be taken -out now and again, and he didn't blame her for it. He looked at the -long, pale length of Worm standing before him as solemn as a preacher -and decided that he probably hadn't had any girl friends when he was -serving his apprenticeship in Scotland. From what he could gather, his -closest friends seemed to have been a kit of mechanic's tools and a -book called Davie's _Problems and Principles of Internal Combustion -Engines_. - -There was just about time, now that Worm had failed to come through -with a loan, to call up Mary Jane and see whether he could postpone -their date. He hated to do it, because he suspected that Mary Jane -had had her hair done or received some other kind of unnecessary and -expensive beauty treatment in preparation for the evening. - -He dialed her number, not knowing quite how he would put it, and was -further distressed when she answered the phone right away. Almost -her first statement was, "Oh, Woody, there's a movie based on one of -Somerset Maugham's books at the Criton, and I'm just dying to see it. -You ought to see it too. It got raves from the really good critics. It -would do you a lot of good." - -Woody groaned. Somerset Maugham. That meant that his instincts were -correct and Mary Jane was intent upon an adult-type evening out. - -"Gee," he said. "I don't think I can make it tonight, Mary Jane. I've, -er ... well, something's happened." - -It seemed to Woody that the temperature around him fell about ten -degrees when he said that, and the slight silence that followed seemed -to last about five years. - -"What's happened?" asked Mary Jane, and Woody could have sworn that -there was cold water trickling from the receiver which he held to his -ear. - -"Well ... I just haven't got the dough right now," he said lamely. - -"Woody Hartford," said Mary Jane. "You knew ten days ago about this -date. You asked for it then. You had plenty of time to call me before--" - -"But, honey--" said Woody. - -"Never mind," snapped Mary Jane. "I'm going to the movie, and it won't -be with you. I just hope I never see you again--you and that silly -old car of yours." Woody thought he heard a sob before the receiver -clicked in his ear. - -At ten minutes to seven, Bob Peters came round with the manifold. He -swept into the service station in a yellow Buick convertible that Woody -knew he'd bought out of spare-time earnings. Woody took one look at -him, and his heart sank. Mary Jane, dressed up as lovely as a princess, -was seated beside Bob, and she looked right through him. - -"The manifold's in the back," said Bob cheerfully. "Do you mind getting -it out? I don't want to soil my duds." - -Woody opened up the back of the convertible and took out the manifold. -When he had put it on the ground carefully, Bob said, "That'll be ten -bucks--cash." - -Woody gave the money, a five and five singles, to Bob, and Mary Jane -said, "Oh," putting more scorn and contempt into the word than Woody -would have thought possible. Then the two drove off, Mary Jane with her -nose very high in the air and her brown eyes surprisingly stony. - -"What have ye got there, laddie?" Worm asked when they had gone. - -Woody looked at the manifold and after the departing car. He thought of -Worm's book, Davie's _Problems and Principles of Internal Combustion -Engines_. - -"I think I've got the same sort of girl friend that you had in -Scotland," he said. - - - - - 2 - - -In the week that followed, Woody caught only a few glimpses of Mary -Jane. She cut him dead each time. They'd had their quarrels before, -but Woody realized that this time it was pretty serious, and there was -little he could do to alter the situation. - -"When a dame spends five bucks fixing up her hair to be taken out -and you spend ten bucks fixing up a hot rod and don't take her out, -you're back in the stag line again," his friend Steve Phillips told -him philosophically. "Why don't you forget about that pile of junk and -spend your time straightening things out with Mary Jane? She's a nice -kid. You ought to take more care of her." - -"Wouldn't do any good," said Woody. "Besides, if she's going to be my -steady, she's got to take the hot rod as well. I'm not interested in -dames that want me to spend the rest of my life catching up on Aldous -Huxley and Somerset Maugham. Betcha neither of them can drive a car." - -Woody spent the week fixing up Cindy Lou in the intervals between -working in Worm's garage. He wanted to get her ready for a trial run at -the salt lakes out in the Mojave Desert by the following Saturday. The -salt lakes were where the drag races were held. But there could be none -that weekend. However, the quarter-mile, half-mile, and mile markers -would be there, and he would be able to test Cindy Lou's speed. - -In the drag races, hot rods do not compete directly with each other. -They go singly over the measured straightaway. Their speeds are -electrically timed and the winner picked on a fastest-time basis. Steve -had agreed to come out to the salt lakes to help with the timing. And -even Worm began to show an interest in Cindy Lou now that she was -nearing her test run. - -He came over one evening while Woody was adjusting the tappets and -looked at Cindy Lou with enormous disfavor. - -"Mon," he said, "ye're not intending ta drive that contraption, are ye?" - -"Sure," said Woody. "Ought to go like a bomb. Figure I can get her up -past the hundred mark." - -Worm made no reply to this other than to give a disapproving cluck of -his tongue. He was fascinated by the weird engine position and got down -on the ground on his back to examine it and the differential hook-up. - -"It's all contrary to Davie's _Problems and Principles of Internal -Combustion Engines_," he said when he emerged from beneath the hot rod. -"That Davie was a sound mon, now. Ye'd do better ta spend more time -studying his book, of which I have a copy in the office. How many gears -do ye have on this beastie?" - -"Two," said Woody highly flattered, despite Worm's disapproval, that he -was taking any interest in Cindy Lou at all. "Low will take her up to -about sixty-five from a standing start. I have to hit sixty before I -can shift up. Then she'll really take off." - -"Hae ye figured out yere flywheel revolutions?" asked Worm. - -"About six thousand revolutions per minute at maximum torque," said -Woody. - -"Mon, mon," said Worm. "Davie would na' like it at all." - -Nonetheless, Worm was obviously fascinated by the hot rod and gave -a grunt of approval at the way in which the various engineering -problems of its unorthodox design had been solved. Indeed, he became -so interested that after inquiring cautiously whether it would be very -expensive, he agreed to come out to the salt lakes and help with the -speed trials. - -"Ye'll be needing some cold plugs, I'm thinking," he said. "The ones ye -have there'll never do the trick. I've eight I can lend ye. But ye must -gie them back when ye're through wi' them." He went into his office -while Woody looked in wonder at Steve. He'd never known Worm to show so -much interest in a car before. - -"Wonder what's come over him," he said. - -"Maybe he's trying to make up for not lending you that dough the other -night," Steve suggested. - -Woody shook his head. "He thinks he did me a favor," he said. "His idea -of dames is that the more money they let you spend on them, the less -they are worth." - -"Maybe he's got something there," said Steve. - -Worm now returned with the eight plugs. They were of an Italian make, -each wrapped in a piece of greased paper on which instructions on their -care and setting were printed. Happily these were printed in English as -well. - -"I'll set them myself for ye," said Worm. "But ye'd best not use them -until the speed trial. Hoo are ye going tae get yon bucket of bolts -oot to the track? Ye canna drive it through the streets wi' only two -gears. Onyway, I don't think the police would let ye, wi' the engine -beside the driver." - -Woody explained that the car would have to be towed. He had a tow bar -and hoped to borrow somebody else's car for the job. - -Again Worm surprised him. - -"We can use the Dodge," he said. This was indeed a concession, for the -Dodge, a 1928 model, was Worm's greatest love. He'd bought it in a junk -yard for ten dollars and rebuilt it himself. Every year he took the -whole engine apart, renewed any parts that were worn, and put it back -together again. New parts he had to make himself or have made. Yet he -would not consider buying another car and puttered back and forth in -the Dodge at a maximum speed of thirty miles an hour. - -The Dodge had solid wheels and strange thin tires. Its seats compelled -their occupants to sit bolt upright. It was a roadster, with a canvas -top set on oak supports. When it rained, and the top was put up, side -curtains of isinglass had to be installed to keep the rain out. The -windshield wiper operated spasmodically off the manifold vacuum, and -the gas tank, made of brass, was outside the car, slung in the rear. - -Nonetheless, it never failed to start at the press of a button, -and since it couldn't go any faster than thirty miles an hour, its -two-wheel mechanical brakes were adequate. - -That evening Woody worked late making up a batch of dope for Cindy -Lou. The highest octane gasoline available was not good enough to give -her top performance. She needed special fuel of which the base was -gasoline. But, to this, Woody added alcohol and nitro-methane, the -whole concoction smelling vilely and promising an explosion at any -moment. - -He mixed up a total of six gallons, which he placed in three two-gallon -containers and put them in a cool part of the garage. - -When he got home that evening--it was Friday--he was dog tired and -almost too excited to eat. Cindy Lou was hopped up as well as he could -do with his present equipment. She ought to do well. And if she did, -he'd enter her in the Southcal Drag Races at the old Burbank airport in -two weeks. That could mean winning a cup. - -"Woody," his mother said when he came through the kitchen door. -"Somebody called you on the phone about ten minutes ago. But she hung -up without giving her name when I said you weren't in." - -"Any idea who it was?" Woody asked. - -"It sounded like Mary Jane," his mother replied. - -"Gosh," said Woody and went immediately to the telephone. His father, -now back from his business trip and sitting in the living room reading, -sighed. He served on the City Council at Hermosa Beach and was having a -hard time analysing a report on street improvement. - -"Try and keep it short," he said, but he didn't think it would do much -good. Telephone conversations with Mary Jane seemed to last a minimum -of half an hour. - -"Hello," said Woody into the phone. "Mary Jane? Were you calling me?" -There was a short interval of silence during which Mr. Hartford was -shocked to discover from his report that it had cost the city $217 to -replace damaged rubbish-disposal bins during the year. Then Woody said -plaintively, "Gee, Mary Jane. I can't. I've got Cindy Lou all fixed up -and I'm going to try her out--" He didn't finish the sentence but hung -up despondently. - -Mr. Hartford looked up from his report. Vague memories of similar -unsatisfactory conversations many years before with Woody's mother came -back to him. - -"Something wrong, son?" he asked. - -"Oh, Mary Jane wants me to go to somebody's birthday party, and now -she's mad because I have to take Cindy Lou out for a fast run." - -Mr. Hartford took off his glasses and looked at his son strangely. It -was as if he had suddenly discovered a completely new aspect of his -character. - -"Cindy Lou for a fast run?" he said. - -"Cindy Lou is Woody's hot rod," Mrs. Hartford explained, and his father -relaxed. - -"Oh," he grunted. There were times when he realized that Woody lived in -a world completely different from his own, and this was one of them. - -"Never mind," said Mrs. Hartford comfortingly. "Mary Jane's a sensible -girl. She'll see things in their right light after a while. Your father -and I had many misunderstandings before we were married." - -"Yes," said Woody gloomily. "But there wasn't a Bob Peters with a -yellow Buick convertible hanging around in the background." - -"As I recall it," said Mr. Hartford, "there was a young medical student -by the name of Saunders who drove a Stutz Bearcat. But for my happy -intervention, my boy, you might be the son of a doctor, devoting your -life to the dissection of frogs." - -Mrs. Hartford laughed, and for a moment she seemed, even to Woody, a -young girl. - -Woody was up at four in the morning and met Steve and Worm at the -garage. Steve had brought two stop watches as promised, and everything -was ready, including the sandwiches that Mrs. Hartford had prepared for -the three of them. It took six hours in the Dodge to get to the Mojave -salt lake where Cindy Lou was to undergo her trials. Nobody else was -there, and during the last-minute preparations for the first run even -Worm seemed a little nervous. The cold spark plugs were put in after -Worm had gapped them properly; Woody drained the fuel from Cindy Lou's -tank and poured in his special dope. - -When all was ready, Woody got into the hot rod, which, after a -complaining cough and a whirr or two, fired up. - -"Warm her oop a little," said Worm. "Mon, dinna' ye install yer safety -belt?" - -"Sure," said Woody. "It's on the floor." He buckled it around him and -squirmed into as comfortable a position as possible behind the wheel. - -"Everybody knows what he's got to do?" he said. "Steve, you stand by -the starting line. Worm's going to be at the half-mile mark. Don't -watch me. Watch Worm. The moment I start to move, press the stop watch. -When I pass the half-mile mark, Worm will bring down the checkered -flag. Stop the watch right then. Maybe we ought to try it a couple of -times to see if everybody understands." - -He made two trial runs, not pressing Cindy Lou but giving her a chance -to warm up. Everything went as planned. - -"Swell," said Woody, "this time it's for real. Ready?" Steve nodded, -and Woody brought Cindy Lou to the starting line. He stopped her -dead, and then, with a slight nod of his head, slipped her in low and -stepped on the gas. The take-off flung him back against the seat. The -flat salt bed of the desert sped beneath him like a gleaming white -ribbon. Woody looked at the speedometer. Forty-five. Fifty. Fifty-five. -Sixty. Sixty-five. He slammed the clutch down and flung the gearshift -back toward him. Cindy Lou seemed to leave the ground in a clean leap -forward. Woody grinned. Smooth as silk and swift as an arrow. Boy what -a rod, he thought. He hardly saw Worm as he flashed by. It took him a -mile across the salt flats to slow down. When he got back Steve said, -"Twenty seconds." - -"That's an average of ninety miles an hour over the half mile from a -standing start," said Woody. "Man, she goes like a bird. But she ought -to do better than that. This time I'll really pour the coal to her." - -The second run showed an average of ninety-two miles an hour from the -standing start. - -"Try her over the mile," Steve suggested. "Then you can see what she'll -do when she has time to get rolling." - -Woody waited until Worm had driven out to the mile mark in the Dodge -and waved his flag to show he was ready. Then he took off again. This -time he decided that he'd wind Cindy Lou up real tight in low as fast -as he could, and jam her into high with his foot all the way down on -the accelerator. The hot rod fled down the salt flat with a defiant -snarling roar. For the split second when she was in neutral between -gear shifts, it seemed to Woody she would shake herself to pieces. -Then he flipped her into high and again experienced that clean lancing -forward as the gear took hold. - -With the accelerator all the way down it seemed as if Worm and the -ground he stood upon were being flung toward him. Then, from the engine -by his side, came a strange and ominous sound. It started as nothing -more than a heavy knocking but in seconds was as if forty blacksmiths -were beating on a boiler with sledge hammers. Cindy Lou slowed down so -fast that it seemed as if her brakes had seized. Woody slipped her into -neutral and turned off the ignition. The clanging and hammering stopped -immediately. - -Worm came loping up. "What happened, laddie?" he asked. - -"I don't know," Woody said. "She just blew up." - -"Turn her over," said Worm. Woody pressed the starter, and the grinding -and banging started immediately. Worm got down and looked under Cindy -Lou. - -"Connecting rod," he said. "A piece of it has come clear through the -pan. Yere oil's leaking oot. Worse than that. It must have broken -through the cylinder wall. There's water wi' the oil." - -He looked at Woody and decided not to say anything more. There was -nothing more that could be said. Cindy Lou was a wreck. She'd need a -completely new engine if she was ever to run again. - -They towed her home in silence. - - - - - 3 - - -Woody was so depressed after Cindy Lou threw a connecting rod during -the trial runs at the salt lakes that neither Worm nor Steve could do -or say anything to cheer him up. It is possible that Mary Jane might -have been able to remove his depression, for part of it at least -stemmed from the quarrel between them. But if Mary Jane knew anything -of Woody's troubles, she left him severely alone. Woody heard through -Steve that she was going around with Bob Peters, and he wondered at -times whether he ought not to go around to Bob Peters and punch him on -the nose. - -"I'd sure feel a lot better," he told Steve, "if I punched him right in -the snoot." - -Steve was somewhat undersized, a freckled, sandy-haired youth who was -growing a mustache distinguishable only because it made him look as -though there was something wrong with his upper lip. - -"You might feel better right when you punched him," Steve said. "But -one second later you might not feel so good. That Peters is a pretty -big guy." - -"Just a sack of hog fat," said Woody savagely. "Coming right here with -my girl so she could see me handing over the ten bucks to him that I -was supposed to take her out with." - -"Well, maybe he did," said Steve. "But you gotta admit it was you who -made the deal." - -"Say, whose side you on anyway?" Woody asked fiercely. - -"Yours, pal," said Steve. "But you won't get anywhere blaming other -people for what you did. Anyway, that's all over. Did you take the head -off Cindy Lou and see how much damage had been done?" For answer Woody -reached up to a shelf above his work bench and threw Steve a piston. -Part of a connecting rod was fastened to it, but it was snapped off in -the middle and twisted like a stick of liquorice. - -"Gee," said Steve, deeply impressed. "Sure made a mess of that." - -"You should look at the cylinder," said Woody. "There's a hole in the -cylinder wall big enough for an elephant to get through." He led Steve -over to a corner of the garage where the engine block of Cindy Lou lay -on the floor. There was a rent in one of the cylinder walls and deep -score marks on two others. - -"What did Worm say caused it?" Steve asked. - -"Jeepers, I know what caused it," said Woody. "The connecting rod -snapped in that cylinder, and I busted some rings in those other two. -That's what caused it." - -"Don't get sore, pal," said Steve. "I know that's what caused it. Any -kid in the block can tell you that. But why did the connecting rod pop? -What does Worm say?" - -"He says it popped because it wasn't according to Davie's _Problems and -Principles of Internal Combustion Engines_," snarled Woody. - -"That's right," said Worm coming up unexpectedly. "There's a sweet -little chapter in there that will tell ye all aboot it. Noo, frae -the look of that I'd say that yere crankshaft was no properly in -balance--just enough to set up a bit of a whip in yon connecting rod. -Though it's possible the metal was a mite tired. Ye're lucky it did'na -go clean through the block and spray ye wi' scalding water and hot oil. -But dinna worrit. Nae doot one day ye'll get another and do the same -foolish thing all over again." - -Woody, however, for the time being had had enough of hot rods. Every -time he looked at Cindy Lou or at the engine block lying disconsolate -on the garage floor, he felt sick. In the end, he decided to sell what -he could of her. He'd spent a total of four hundred dollars on the car, -not counting innumerable hours of his own labor. Disposed of piecemeal, -he got back eighty, reselling the carburetor manifold to Bob Peters for -eight dollars. He wasn't very happy when he heard that Bob sold it a -week later for much more. - -With the eighty dollars he decided that he'd better try to patch things -up with Mary Jane. The point was, should he buy her a present and call -on her, or should he telephone her and get a date and then turn up with -a present? - -He decided to telephone, and it was just as well, because she wasn't -in. She wasn't in when he called the next day either, though her -mother, Mrs. Jackson, sounded encouraging. - -"I think she'll be in in a few minutes," she said. "Mary Jane just went -down to the library." - -"Gee, is she still reading those swell Huxley books?" asked Woody, -determined to ingratiate himself wherever he might. - -"Huxley?" said Mrs. Jackson. "No. It's not Huxley, Woody. The last -book she had was called, I think, _The Philosophy of Salesmanship_. -She's become very interested in selling lately. Last night she gave -her father quite a questioning on whether he was carrying sufficient -insurance." - -"Oh," groaned Woody. "Well, thanks, Mrs. Jackson." - -"Shall I tell her you'll call again when she comes in?" Mrs. Jackson -asked. - -"No," said Woody. "I don't think I will, Mrs. Jackson." - -"All right," said Mrs. Jackson. "I think I understand." - -The next day Steve called him up. Steve was worried about Woody's -attitude, which was very gloomy, and had devised a plan that he hoped -would cheer him up. - -"Listen," he said. "Got a real good deal for us. There's a tech -inspection for the sports cars for the Torrey Pines race tonight. How -about going along? Lots of cars of all kinds. Ferraris, Maseratis, -Austin Healeys, Jags, TR2's. What d'ya say?" - -"Mickey Mouse stuff," was Woody's reply. - -"What d'ya mean, Mickey Mouse stuff?" demanded Steve. - -"There isn't enough horsepower in any one of them to go over a -cardboard box without changing gears," said Woody scornfully. - -"I got news for you," said Steve. "One of the Type D Jags at the Le -Mans race recently developed two hundred and eighty-five horsepower -with a two hundred and ten cubic-inch engine. And it was running on -just plain old gasoline. You know any hot rods can do that?" - -Woody admitted that he didn't. - -"Well, you want to come and see these little bugs, or aren't you -interested in anything that hasn't got an engine big enough to drive a -tank?" - -"I guess I can take a look at them," Woody said grudgingly. - -"I was hoping you'd see it that way, on account of I need a ride." - -"Just a minute," said Woody. "What kind of a deal is this? I haven't -got any transportation." - -"I know you haven't, pal," replied Steve. "But if you're going, you can -talk Worm into taking us there. Tell him every one of these cars was -built by a guy who studied under Davie that wrote the book on internal -combustion engines. S'long." - -Worm, however, was strangely hesitant about going to the technical -inspection. He displayed an odd mixture of keenness and reluctance, -as if half of him was excited at the prospect and half of him deeply -disturbed. His long fingers trembled slightly as he lit his cigarette, -and it took him two matches to achieve the task. - -"Och," he said finally, looking queerly at Woody, "I wish ye'd said -naething of it tae me." - -Woody thought that Worm was merely reluctant to take them there in his -car but, priding himself on the generosity of the Highland Scots, did -not wish to appear stingy. - -"Gee, Worm," he said, "if you don't want to take the Dodge, Steve and I -can find some other way of getting there." - -"It's nae that, laddie," replied Worm, remarkably serious even for him. -"It's nae that at all. It's something I had put oot of my mind a long -time ago, and I dinna ever want it to come back again. And here it is." -In his distress his Scots brogue grew thicker. Woody couldn't make any -sense at all of what he was saying. - -"Skip it," said Woody. "It isn't that important." - -"It's nae so easily skipped, laddie," said Worm and went into his -office. - -Woody returned to his work of grinding valves, a task that demanded all -his care. By the time he was done, he had all but forgotten his date -with Steve and his strange conversation with Worm. Indeed it was nearly -time to close down the shop, and it was Worm who reminded him of his -appointment. - -"Meet me here after dinner," he said. "I'll take ye tae the tech -inspection. It's a thing I must do." - -After dinner he was back at the garage to find Worm there dressed in -a clean suit of coveralls. He had a box of tools with him, and Woody -was surprised that he hadn't changed into his ordinary clothing and -should have the tools with him. However, he said nothing to him about -it. On the way, Steve did most of the talking. He explained that the -inspection had two main purposes. The first was to see that all the -sports cars entered for the race were in perfect mechanical condition. -Every feature would be checked for safety, from the seal of the -gas-tank cap to the amount of tread on the tires. - -"Man," he said, "they really give them the works on that safety check. -They go over everything with a fine-tooth comb--safety belts, brakes, -brake lights in the rear, steering-wheel play, anything dangling -underneath that might give trouble--they don't miss a thing. I've seen -guys ruled out because their spare tires were a little worn. It's kind -of hard to get tires for some of those foreign jobs in a hurry." - -The second purpose of the inspection was to ensure that cars racing -"stock," that is, without any changes from the factory model, hadn't -been secretly souped up in some way to give the driver an advantage -over his rivals. - -"You take air filters," he said. "If the factory in England or France -puts a particular kind of air filter on the car, that's the one it's -got to race with. The same kind of filter may be available over here. -Looks the same and does the job no better and no worse. But if it isn't -the factory filter, the car can't race as a stock model." - -"Heck," said Woody disgusted, "if they can't soup them up, what fun is -it? Any stock car will turn in about the same performance as another -from the same factory." - -"Tuning, driving skill, experience, and guts, that's what makes the -difference," said Steve. "Wait until you see these babies race. It -isn't like Indianapolis, where they just go round in a circle as hard -as they can lick. Once you get into high gear at Indianapolis, you stay -there until the race is over. These boys race on tracks that are full -of hairpin bends, S-bends, and right-angle corners. They have to know -when to shift down and when to shift up. They have to know how to shoot -a blind corner so as to skid round it and still stay on the track. It's -no game for sissies. You get into a hairpin with a cloud of Jags and -Ferraris steaming around you and about three inches to maneuver in, and -you learn how to say your prayers all over again." - -It was not hard to find the building in which the technical inspection -was being held. The streets for several blocks around were jammed -with sports cars of every make. It was as if some kind of automobile -carnival was being held. There was a tenseness and excitement in the -air that was infectious. From being slightly scornful of all the -proceedings, Woody found himself increasingly interested in the cars -and the people who drove them, and a little ashamed of his previous -"Mickey Mouse" label. - -With Steve he sauntered over to a green MG whose owner was screwing an -air filter in place. He was surprised at the size of the engine. It -didn't look powerful enough to run a lawn mower. - -"What will it do?" Woody asked. - -"Ninety. Maybe ninety-five when she's wound up real right." - -"With that?" asked Woody in surprise, pointing to the little -four-cylinder engine. - -"Sure," replied the owner. "Never seen one of these babies before, huh? -What do you drive?" - -"Used to drive a hot rod," said Woody. - -"Me, too," replied the other. "But when I found out about these I -switched. That little engine there has a displacement of just under -fifteen hundred cc.'s--" - -"What's cc.'s?" asked Woody. - -"Cubic centimeters. One thousand cc.'s is sixty-one cubic inches. In -other words, with a displacement of around ninety cubic inches, she -develops sixty-five horsepower. That's darn close to three quarters of -a horsepower for every cubic inch of piston displacement. Not bad, huh?" - -Woody admitted that it wasn't bad at all. - -"Some of the Jags will turn out one point three six hp. per cubic -inch," the MG owner said. "That's on gasoline. That's better than those -Offeuhausers do at Indianapolis using gas, alcohol, and nitro." - -"Let's go look at some of the Jags and Ferraris," said Steve. "Say, -what happened to Worm?" - -"Probably crawling around under one of these buggies," said Woody. -"I don't think he's ever really happy unless he's got crankcase oil -dripping in his face. He brought his tools along." - -"There he is," said Steve. "Talking to that little guy over there." - -They pushed their way over through a tangle of cars, drivers, and -mechanics. The cars looked mostly like toys to Woody, but he had an -increasing respect for them. Worm was talking excitedly to the other -man. The two seemed to be old friends, and this surprised Woody, for -he hadn't known that Worm had any close friends, particularly in -sports-car circles. - -"Gee," the stranger was saying as they approached, "I haven't clapped -eyes on you in ten years. What are you doing with yourself these days?" - -"Running my own shop and service station," said Worm. - -"Anything else?" said the other. - -"Nae," Worm replied. - -The stranger looked at him in silence for a minute. There seemed to be -some understanding between the two of them that Woody could not fathom. - -"Like you tae meet me friends," Worm said, catching sight of them and -breaking the awkward silence. "Woody Hartford and Steve Phillips. Meet -Captain Jim Randolph." - -"Randy for short," said the stranger, holding out his hand. Randy was -one of the smallest men Woody had ever met. He was slim, fair-haired, -and almost boyish in appearance. There were wrinkles of humor around -his blue eyes, and he sported a mustache that would have done credit -to a guardsman. Woody guessed that he was British--either Canadian or -English. - -"You the same Captain Randolph that drove with the Morgan team in the -last Le Mans?" asked Steve. - -"That's me," said Randy. - -"Boy, you must have got a kick out of that," said Steve. - -Randy nodded. "It was a lot of fun," he said quietly. - -"What are ye driving noo?" asked Worm. Randy's whole face brightened. - -"Something absolutely new," he said. "I was awfully lucky to get it. -It's the only one in the country, and none of them have been raced -before. Come along and take a look." Without waiting for a reply, -he led them down the road to the back of a large building where the -technical inspection was being held. There was a crowd of drivers and -mechanics gathered around a car parked in the rear of the building, -and it was difficult to get through them. When they did, Woody found -himself looking at an automobile like something out of the next century. - -The body was gleaming black, and the hood shaped like the nose of a -shark. There was no radiator, the big wheels had wire spokes, and the -dashboard had so many instruments on it that it looked like the cockpit -of an airplane. Randy pushed his way to the back, the drivers and -mechanics around making room for him, and opened what should have been -the luggage compartment. - -"Rear-opposed engine, air cooled, twelve cylinders, four thousand -cc.'s. Develops three hundred horsepower at just under six thousand -revolutions per minute," he said. - -"Wow," said Woody. "What do they call her?" - -"She's made by Milano of Italy, and she's called the Black Tiger," -Randy replied. - -Woody sighed. Here was a real dream car. No other car could ever take -its place for him. But he would never have anything to do with it, let -alone drive it. The thought left him vaguely unhappy. - - - - - 4 - - -There are certain cars that those who love automobiles fall in love -with at first sight. The Black Tiger was just such a car for Woody. For -the next few days he could do little but think of it. He longed to be -associated with it, even in the humblest way. He would have cheerfully -washed and polished the Black Tiger for nothing more than the privilege -of being able to look it over in detail, from the small compact -wicked-looking power plant in the rear to the sable tiger emblem, set -on a field of silver on the front of the hood. - -It would have been heaven to be behind the wheel of the Black Tiger, a -racing helmet and goggles on his head, taking her down the straightaway -of a race track at full throttle. - -He besieged Worm with questions about the Black Tiger, and Worm told -him a great deal about European sports cars of all kinds. Worm seemed -to be familiar with every kind of car that had ever been manufactured, -and Woody was abashed to discover that in Worm's opinion the kind of -mechanical work they were doing in the garage was closer, as he put it, -to butchery than surgery. - -"These buckets o' bolts don't call for a real mechanic," Worm said. -This so annoyed Woody that he protested American cars were acknowledged -the finest in the world. - -"Aye," said Worm, "for what they're built for--plenty of horsepower so -ye don't have to change gear, fast getaway, and enough springing for -a feather bed. Ye can no beat them there. But they'll no take a sharp -corner fast. They carry aboot a ton of chrome fittings just tae make -them look pretty. They'll nae gie ye more than twelve or fourteen miles -tae a gallon of gas. Hoot mon. Do ye call it engineering when somebody -builds a two-ton car to take a two-hundred-pound man tae work?" - -That quieted Woody for a while, and he went back to his dream of the -Black Tiger. - -In the meantime, Mary Jane was beginning to find that the philosophy -of salesmanship and the company of Bob Peters left something to be -desired as a steady diet. It was fun, to be sure, to drive around town -in a yellow Buick convertible with the wind whipping through her dark, -curly hair. Bob had taken her out three times since their first date -and each time for the kind of adult evening that she wished Woody would -get interested in. The first time he'd taken her to a nice quiet place -where there wasn't a juke box (always a mark of sophistication for -Mary Jane) and then to a lecture at the civic auditorium. The lecture -was given by the sales manager of a big rubber company, and he had -discussed selling techniques for an hour and a half. - -Bob had spent the hour and a half taking notes in a black notebook with -his name in gold letters on the front of it. Mary Jane was slightly -piqued because he hadn't said anything about her hair, which she had -fixed specially for the evening. But she reminded herself that she -was being childish and told Bob that she had found the lecture very -exciting. - -This had the effect of encouraging Bob to invite her to two more -evenings of a similar nature. At one of them, a personnel manager had -discussed factors in the making of young executives. Bob took notes on -that too. At another, an advertising manager had discussed the results -of an experiment in which five hundred people had been sent circulars -in which they were promised a dollar if they returned the circular with -their names and addresses on it. - -The only bright point in that lecture was that somebody had apparently -collected twenty copies of the circular from other people's trash -barrels and so got twenty dollars for himself. - -When, therefore, Bob called her again with a proposal to hear a -visiting psychologist lecture on "Egotism as a Factor in Sales -Resistance," she decided she had had enough and said she was busy. - -"I just don't know what's the matter with men," she said putting the -phone down. "When Woody takes me out, all he does is talk about cars. -And when Bob takes me out, he keeps trying to improve my mind. Isn't -there anybody who will take me out just because I'm _me_?" - -Her mother, busy with ironing, made no comment. - -"Didn't Daddy ever take you out just for you before you were married?" -Mary Jane asked. - -"Oh, yes," her mother replied. - -"What did you talk about?" Mary Jane asked, intrigued. - -"His business mostly, I think," said Mrs. Jackson. - -"Didn't he take you dancing, or for a ride in a horse and buggy in the -moonlight?" - -Mrs. Jackson put down her iron and contemplated her daughter. "Horse -and buggy!" she said. "How old do you think I am? Your grandmother -probably went on dates in a horse and buggy. I went in my car. It was a -Chrysler two-seater--one of the first they ever produced. And, young -lady, I owned it. Sometimes I used to think that your father dated me -just to drive the car. He said when we were married he'd buy me a much -better one." - -"Did he?" asked Mary Jane. - -"No, dear," her mother replied. "He bought me a house full of -furniture. It was much more practical. But anyway, if you're not doing -anything this evening and you want to, why don't you call up Woody?" - -"Oh, Mother, I can't," said Mary Jane. "We're not speaking. Besides, -he's probably busy with his silly old hot rod." - -Mrs. Jackson said nothing but went on with her ironing. - -"Do you really think I ought to call him?" Mary Jane asked. "Sometimes -we used to have a lot of fun together. Though he's so boyish." - -Mrs. Jackson still remained silent, and Mary Jane said, "I wonder if -he's still at the garage?" She went to the phone and dialed the number. - -Woody was so surprised by the call that he could only answer Mary -Jane's seemingly very casual questions in nonsyllables. He said yes he -was feeling well, and no he hadn't been sick. He almost let Mary Jane -hang up before he recovered himself sufficiently to ask her for a date. -And when he came away from the phone, he was grinning as he hadn't -grinned since he sold the wreckage of Cindy Lou. - -"Ye'll be taking yere lassie out tonight, nae doot?" said Worm. - -"Yes, _sir_," said Woody all smiles. - -"Nae doot ye'd like a leetle advance on yer pay," Worm went on. "Or are -ye fixed for money? I could let ye have maybe a dollar." - -"Thanks," said Woody, "but I think I've got enough." - -"Weel," said Worm, "dinna spend a lot on her. Them that takes yere -money aren't the housekeeping kind." - -When Woody called for Mary Jane he had the whole evening planned. He'd -borrowed his father's car--a '54 Merc--and was dressed in the dark -blue suit that Mary Jane liked. He had spent half an hour cleaning the -grease from under his fingernails, and passing a drugstore, had had the -happy inspiration to buy a box of candy. - -Mary Jane kept him waiting for only twenty minutes. When she appeared -she looked slimmer and more vivacious and more attractive than Woody -ever remembered. She was not an exceptionally pretty girl but had a -certain grace to her ways and walk that completely captivated Woody. -Her nose was perhaps a little too snub for perfection, but her dark -brown eyes, set wide apart, gave her a frankness of expression that was -especially appealing. - -"Hi, Woody," she said as she entered. "Sorry to keep you waiting. My -hair just wouldn't stay in place this evening." Woody glanced at her -hair, thick, dark, and curly, and didn't mind the twenty minutes of -thumb twiddling in the Jackson living room. - -When they were in the car, he suggested that they go to Merton's for -dinner. Unfortunately Merton's was the place to which Mary Jane had -been with Bob Peters, and she now associated it with a certain amount -of boredom. - -"We could eat there and then go to the civic auditorium," he suggested. -"There's somebody giving a lecture there on something to do with -psychology. I thought you'd like to hear it." Woody had been briefed -on tactics by Steve, who knew that Mary Jane had developed a passion -recently for lectures. - -"Woody Hartford," said Mary Jane. "If you mention the word 'lecture' -to me again, I won't speak to you all evening." - -They went instead to the College Try, a place halfway between a soda -fountain and a restaurant. It had a juke box, and Mary Jane played all -the new swing records she could find, and they danced. Woody decided -that Steve had given him a bum steer, but he didn't mind. He was having -a wonderful time, and Mary Jane was even more vivacious and attractive -than usual. She even asked him about Cindy Lou, and Woody told her that -it had blown up and he'd sold what was left of the hot rod. - -If he'd been a little more observant, he'd have noticed that there -was the tiniest expression of satisfaction and even victory on Mary -Jane's face when she got this news. But Woody went on to describe how -he'd gone to the tech inspection and seen the Black Tiger. And when he -talked about the Black Tiger, it was with such enthusiasm and devotion -that Mary Jane realized Cindy Lou had merely been replaced by another -rival. - -"I don't see what you get out of all this car business," she said a -little pettishly. "It's all so boyish. You just work in grease and dirt -all day long and then you take a car to a race track and perhaps drive -it two or three miles an hour faster than anyone else. And that's all -you get for your pains." - -"Oh, it's a lot more than that," said Woody. "There are things in it -that are hard to explain. There's making an engine work better. It -gives you a sense of having done something. And there's challenge to -it. And some danger. And there's a feeling of belonging to a bunch of -really good guys. It's exciting all the time. Look. Steve and I are -going to the road races at Torrey Pines near San Diego next weekend. -It's a two-day event--Saturday and Sunday. And the Black Tiger will be -racing for the first time in America. Why don't you come along? You'd -really get a kick out of it. I know you would." - -"Oh, I don't think Mother and Daddy would let me," said Mary Jane. - -"Worm's going," said Woody, "and he'd take care of you. Your Mother -and Dad both know him. And Randy will be there." He launched into an -enthusiastic description of Captain Randolph that made it quite clear -that the owner of the Black Tiger was now Woody's hero. - -"Well, I don't know," said Mary Jane. "We'll just have to see." - -Mr. Jackson was at first reluctant to let Mary Jane go to the Torrey -Pines race. But Mrs. Jackson came to her daughter's aid. - -"She's almost eighteen," she said, "and you've just got to get used to -the idea that she's very nearly grown up. She isn't a child any longer." - -"Young people these days haven't any sense," grunted Mr. Jackson. "I'm -just concerned about whether she'll get hurt at the races. That's all." - -"Well, she could just as easily get hurt crossing the main street -here," said Mrs. Jackson. - -"Oh, all right," said Mr. Jackson, who had suddenly recalled that -his grandmother came West in 1865 in a wagon train at the age of -fifteen. Secretly he realized he was rather pleased at his daughter's -enterprise. It would be something to mention casually at the club next -time Wilson mentioned his son's speedboat. - - - - - 5 - - -The Torrey Pines Road Race shaped up even better than Woody had -expected. He and Steve had proposed to pay their own admission, which -would not have allowed them to mix with the cars and their drivers in -the pits where the cars were serviced and given emergency repairs. But -on the Wednesday before the event, there was an unexpected development. - -Woody was busy installing a new set of points on a V-8 on one side of -the garage when he heard the deep throbbing note of a car pulling into -the garage. It was not an engine he had heard before, and he looked up -quickly from his work. There was the Black Tiger and Randy stepping out -of the seat without going through the formality of opening the door. - -Woody dropped his work on the V-8 and went right over. - -"Hello," said Randy genuinely pleased to see him. "Busy?" - -"Just putting some new points on that job," said Woody. - -"I didn't realize you were a mechanic," said Randy. "Been working at it -long?" - -"I've worked with Worm nearly two years. But I studied automotive -engineering for three years at night school." - -"Hmmm," said Randy. "Say, is Worm around? I've got a problem for him." - -Worm had by now come out of his office, where he was totaling up the -day's business with a stub of a pencil in a notebook whose pages were -gray with greasy thumb marks. It was an invariable practice of his. - -"What's the trouble?" he asked. - -"Got a job for you," said Randy. "I didn't want to bring it anywhere -else because I think you're the only mechanic in this area who can -tackle it. I've tried a couple of other places, but the Tiger is so new -I'm not quite satisfied that they can do the work. It takes the kind of -special training that you have." - -"I'll do what I can," said Worm. "What's the problem?" - -"Basically it's a matter of tuning," said Randy. "She's not tuned -right. We've been working on her all week, and she's sluggish at around -fifty-eight hundred rpm. That's just where I need to get real power. -What do you think?" - -"I can do it," said Worm for false modesty was not one of his vices. -"But it'll take all day. I'll have tae shut doon on all me other work -tomorrow if the job's tae be done right." - -"You couldn't work on it tonight, could you?" asked Randy. "I'd like -to get her tuned really fine and then try her out sometime tomorrow to -make sure everything's super. The race is the day after." - -"Aye," said Worm. "We can work taenight for old time's sake. I'll close -the shop tomorrow, anyway. Woody, can ye stay and help a bit, laddie?" - -Woody said he could with such enthusiasm that Randy smiled. They closed -the garage doors after driving the Black Tiger into the building, -and in the overhead electric light the car gleamed sleek, powerful, -exciting, and yet oddly menacing. The thought occurred to Woody that -here was a car it would take a real driver to master. It seemed to have -almost the spirit of a pedigreed stallion. With the right, sure touch -at the controls, it would perform obediently. But any unsureness, any -hesitation, and the car would master the driver. - -Randy lifted the engine cowling in the back, and they set to work. -Woody could follow most of what the two were doing easily enough. They -checked the distributor, coil, points, spark-plug gaps, and timing. -All were in tiptop shape. Tappets, tiny as toys, were checked also and -proved to be correctly adjusted. - -Then Worm did something that Woody had never seen before. He went to -his own tool kit, which he always kept locked, and brought it over. -He opened it up, and inside lay his tools, each contained in a velvet -covering and glittering like the operating instruments of a surgeon. He -took out the two top trays and laid them carefully on a cloth on the -workbench. From the bottom of the toolbox he extracted a stethoscope -such as doctors use for chest examinations. Woody nearly laughed. Worm -with the stethoscope around his neck, dressed in his soiled coveralls, -looked like a caricature of a mad doctor. - -"Fire her oop," said Worm. "She's no breathing right." - -Randy turned on the ignition and pressed the starter button, and the -Black Tiger purred contentedly to herself. - -"Rev her oop tae five thousand," said Worm. The Black Tiger snarled -in anger and impatience as Randy pressed the accelerator down. Worm -put the stethoscope to his ears and the listening apparatus to the -carburetor intake pipe. How he could hear anything above the deep roar -of the engine Woody could not understand. But Worm was listening as -intently as any doctor to the chest of a tuberculous patient. He raised -a long finger in the air, and Randy depressed the accelerator further. -The Black Tiger's roar was now such that it seemed it must bring down -the building. Worm nodded and took off the stethoscope as the roar of -the engine died to a quiet purr again. - -"It's as I thought," he said. "She's no breathing right around five -thousand eight hundred. The air's no ramming through as it should. It's -a delicate matter, and I hae me doots whether we can fix it." - -"Have to change the contour of the intake and exhaust ports, huh?" -asked Randy. - -"Aye," said Worm. He saw the mystified look on Woody's face and -explained. "It's a matter of using air pulsations tae shoot air through -the intake port and suck it oot of the exhaust. I've not got the time -tae explain it further. Ye'd find it in Davie if ye ever looked. But -it's controlled by the size and contour o' the intake and exhaust -ports. It's like using the air as a supercharger for itself." - -Woody now began to understand what Worm had meant when he talked about -the difference between butchery and surgery in servicing automobiles. - -"I'm thinking," Worm said to Randy, "that if the intake ports were -polished a bit it might do the trick." - -Worm bent over to look. "Somebody installed the wrong gaskets," he -said, straightening up. "Yon gaskets are too thick. A sixteenth of an -inch will make a difference." - -He took the intake manifold off and found two gaskets had been used -on them in place of one. Then he took off the exhaust headers and -found the same. When they fired up the Black Tiger once more, and Worm -listened to her breathing with his stethoscope, he smiled his approval. - -"She'll do all right noo," he said. - -That, however, was not the end of the evening's, or rather the night's, -work. Worm went over every detail of the engine, working slowly but -expertly, and Woody's job was mostly to listen and supply cups of hot -coffee. He had called up his mother to explain he would be home late, -but it was nearly one in the morning before Worm pronounced himself -satisfied. - -"Ye can try her out tomorrow," Worm said to Randy, "and if there's -any further trouble, bring her in and we'll tickle her again tomorrow -night." - -"Look," said Randy to Worm, "I don't know whether I can swing this, but -I've got a vacancy on my pit crew. One of my men is sick. In any case -I'd sooner you worked in the pit than he. Do you think you can do it -for me--as a favor for old time's sake?" - -To Woody's surprise, Worm hesitated. He himself would have jumped at -the opportunity of being one of the crew of mechanics who would service -the Black Tiger during the racing. But Worm seemed loath to take the -job. Then Randy said something that surprised Woody. - -"You've got to get over that, Worm," he said. "It was a long time ago. -You've got to turn round and face it, and you might as well do it with -your friends." - -Worm didn't reply immediately. Woody sensed that there was a great deal -of tension in the moment, and that Worm was being asked to make some -critical decision in his life. Worm fished into the breast pocket of -his coveralls for a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and lit it, his -hands trembling slightly. - -Randy was looking at him steadily--a look between sympathy and -challenge. - -"I made oop me mind fifteen years ago to hae nae more tae doo with it," -Worm said. - -"That was the wrong decision," said Randy calmly, "and you know it. The -only way you can get it straightened out is to get back into the game -again. Otherwise you'll spend the rest of your life with this thing in -the background." Both seemed to have forgotten Woody's presence. - -"I won't think any less of you if you refuse," Randy said slowly. "I -could never think any less of you, Worm. You've done too many splendid -things. But let me put it this way. If you accept, then you're an even -bigger man than I thought you were." - -Worm took a long drag on his cigarette and looked at Woody for the -first time during the conversation. There was a softness in his eyes, -and quite suddenly Woody felt a great warmth for both Worm and Randy. - -"All right," said Worm still looking at Woody. "I'll do it." - -Randy didn't say anything. He just grinned and gave Worm a firm little -punch in the chest, and Worm looked a little foolish. - -Woody, Mary Jane, Steve, and Worm went down to San Diego in the Dodge, -starting early on Friday morning. In San Diego they met Randy and all -had dinner together. Mary Jane said afterward that Randy was the most -fascinating man she had ever met. Certainly he was an excellent talker, -full of wit and optimism. Perhaps in deference to Mary Jane, he didn't -limit the conversation to racing and racing cars but spoke as readily -of the different countries of Europe, with an anecdote to adorn each of -them, as a man would speak of his own home town. - -He talked of sailing on Lake Geneva, in Switzerland, and of the -mistrals, or sudden winds, coming out of the mountains, which made the -sport dangerous; of the Casino at Monaco and the Tivoli gardens in -Copenhagen. All in all he enchanted everybody, so that Mary Jane wanted -to know all about him and both Steve and Woody made him number one on -their hero list. - -Woody noticed when dinner was over that Randy was a little awkward in -getting out of his chair. He thought nothing of it at the time, but the -detail had not escaped Mary Jane. - -When they returned to their motel and Randy had left them, Mary Jane -turned to Worm and asked, "Has Randy got something the matter with his -legs?" - -"Ye're a noticing young body," said Worm. "His legs are all right, but -he's only got five toes." - -"Five toes?" said Mary Jane, horrified now that she'd said anything at -all. - -"Aye," said Worm. "He lost his right foot about fifteen years ago. But -it doesn't trouble his driving, and he walks without a limp. I've no -doot it took him a lot of practice. There was some talk of barring him -from racing, but he proved he's as good a driver as men wi' two feet of -their own. He has a cupboard full of trophies won all over Europe. But -this is the first time he's racing in America." - -"You mean he's racing an unknown car on a course he's never seen before -and with only one foot?" cried Woody. - -"Hoot, mon," said Worm, "I mind the time he climbed the Matterhorn in -the avalanche season wi' the same one foot. It comes to me that yon -Randy wouldna enjoyed himself half as much if he had both his feet. -He's a mon that likes a challenge." - - - - - 6 - - -Woody, Mary Jane, and Steve were out at the track early the following -morning after a hurried breakfast. Worm and Randy went out in the Black -Tiger together, and Woody took Worm's Dodge. They would not see each -other until the day's racing was over because Woody and Randy would be -in the pit area while they would have to stay behind the low fence of -wood slats, called a snow fence, which separated the track from the -spectators. - -Woody bought a program and found a map of the track on it. - -"Boy," he said, "take a gander at that." - -The track looked in shape like a wire loop that had been badly -mangled. From the starting line, there was about four hundred yards of -straightaway. Then a right-angle left turn, followed after two hundred -yards by a hairpin bend to the right. There were a series of S-turns, -another right angle, and another hairpin, though not as acute as the -first. Then a straightaway of about three-quarters of a mile, followed -by two more right-angle turns, and so back to the starting position to -complete the first lap. - -All the turns were numbered on the map and there were ten in all. The -track was just under three miles. - -"We ought to try to get over to that first hairpin," said Steve. -"That's where we'll see the fun. Say," he said turning to a man -standing nearby, "how do you get to turn number two?" - -"Butcher Bend?" said the stranger laconically. "Right over by that -clump of eucalyptus. You'd better hurry, though, if you want to get a -good place." - -They had hardly got there when a loud-speaker over their heads said -in a peculiarly flat and distorted voice, "Attention all drivers and -pit crews. There'll be a drivers' meeting by the judges' stand in ten -minutes. All those competing in the first event for cars under fifteen -hundred cc.'s please have somebody there. You must get this briefing to -learn the rules of the course." The message was repeated. - -"What's that for?" Mary Jane asked. - -"To tell them about the flags and the rules of racing," replied Steve. -"For instance, if a flagman waves a black flag to a driver, it means -that he has to go round to the pit area and get out of the race." - -"Why?" asked Mary Jane. - -"Any number of reasons," said Steve. "His car might be leaking gas on -the track, which is real dangerous, or he might be driving so badly -as to be a danger to the other drivers, or he might have deliberately -fouled somebody. You can't just get into one of these cars and drive it -as fast as you want without regard for anybody else. It's a real risky -business, and even with every safety precaution that can be taken, -fellows crack up." - -"I thought everybody just went as hard as they could go," said Mary -Jane. - -"They do. But they've got to do it with judgment. Wild stuff is -strictly out." - -The loud-speaker started to blat again: - -"Today," the announcer said, "we have an event of very great importance -to West Coast racing and to road racing in the United States. A new -Italian car of revolutionary design will make its first appearance -on this track this morning. This is the first time that this car, -the Black Tiger, has ever been raced anywhere in the world. And it's -being driven by none other than the owner, Captain Jimmy Randolph, who -has competed in three of the Le Mans events in France and is one of -Europe's best drivers. Randy, how about saying a word to the folks?" - -"Hush," said Mary Jane, though this was quite unnecessary, for both -Woody and Steve were standing stock-still listening. - -"I'm very happy to be here," said Randy over the loud-speaker. "This is -a really sporting course, and I'm looking forward to an enjoyable day." - -"What do you think of your chances in the Black Tiger?" the announcer -asked. - -"We'll know more about them at the end of the race than we do now -before it's started," Randy replied. "I'm up against some hot -competition, and whatever driver wins will deserve everybody's respect. -There are eighteen other cars in the event--Jags, Ferraris, Maseratis, -and a couple of Thunderbirds--and I'm going to have to keep my eye on -every one of them." - -"Any particular driver you're worried about?" - -"At this point, I'm worried about them all," replied Randy. "Some of -the boys have raced against me at Le Mans. Tom Wisdom in Ferrari number -four is tops, and so is Kurt Kreuger in his Jag--I think it's number -six. But as I say, I'll have to keep my eye on everybody. They're all -tiptop men driving fine cars." - -"Isn't he wonderful?" said Mary Jane, and Steve and Woody nodded their -agreement. - -A few minutes later there came another announcement over the -loud-speaker. "Attention in the spectator area," the announcer said. -"Will Woody Hartford--that's W-o-o-d-y H-a-r-t-f-o-r-d--report -immediately to gate three? Woody Hartford to gate three immediately." - -"That's me," said Woody in astonishment. - -"That's right," said Steve. "Get moving." - -"Where's gate three?" Woody asked. - -"You, Woody Hartford?" a flagman who was standing on the track within -earshot asked. - -"That's right." - -"O.K., get over the fence and cross the track. Gate three's right over -there where all those cars are parked. By the big white building. -Hustle, because they're going to close the track in a couple of -minutes." - -Woody scrambled over the fence and ran toward the white building as -fast as he could. At gate three he found Worm waiting for him and very -excited. - -"Here," said Worm. "Sign this. It means that if you get hit or get -hurt, you can't sue the race track or anybody." He put a mimeographed -form before Woody. "Randy's other pit man didn't turn up," said Worm, -"and I can no handle everything meself. We've got forty minutes tae get -the Black Tiger ready, and because it's a new car, the officials are -letting ye join the pit crew. Hurry, mon. Did they never teach ye tae -sign yere name in thot silly school ye went tae?" - -Woody scrawled his signature in indelible pencil on the bottom of the -form, and the two sprinted over to the pit area where Randy stood, -looking worried, beside the Black Tiger. - -"Awfully glad you were able to come," he said. "Tape up my headlights -for me, like a good lad." He threw Woody a roll of adhesive tape. - -Woody glanced at the headlights of the Jag in the adjoining pit. They -were covered completely with strips of adhesive tape. He guessed the -reason was to prevent them being pitted by gravel flung up by the rear -wheels of cars ahead in the race. He taped the Black Tiger's headlights -in a similar way. - -"Get the fenders now," said Worm, and Woody put overlapping strips of -adhesive over the fore part of the Tiger's fenders. - -"Can you help adjust these rear-vision mirrors?" said Randy when he -was finished. "Just move them the way I tell you." The Black Tiger had -three rear-vision mirrors, one on each front fender and one on the -dashboard in front of the driver. They had to be adjusted so that by -looking into them Randy could see the area around his two rear fenders -and behind him. - -By this time the first race for cars under fifteen hundred cc.'s had -started. But Woody was so busy with the Black Tiger that he saw very -little of it. Eventually all was done and only just in time. - -"Cars for event number two, report to the starting grid," the -loud-speaker instructed. - -"That's us," said Randy. "Coming?" - -Worm pushed Woody into the seat beside Randy and climbed up on the deck -behind the cockpit. From all around there rose a series of roars as -Jags, Ferraris, Maseratis, Allards, and Thunderbirds eased out of their -pits and slid slowly toward the starting area. The noise was deafening -and exciting beyond expression. The cars seemed to be challenging each -other, showing their strength like gladiators about to meet in a Roman -arena. - -In this mass of automobiles, some snorting, some purring, some roaring -as drivers sought to keep spark plugs from fouling, the Black Tiger -slid forward through the pits out to the paved court that formed the -starting area. Positions for the start of the race had already been -allocated. Only three cars could be placed abreast on the actual -starting line. The others were lined up three abreast behind them. The -Black Tiger's position was in the fourth row of cars, with a cloud of -Jags and Ferraris ahead of her. - -Randy, when he had the Tiger in position, buckled the strap of his -crash helmet under his chin and pulled on a pair of pigskin gloves. -The noise around was deafening. Woody was surprised to find himself -trembling slightly with excitement. But Randy seemed completely calm. -Worm walked around the Tiger making a last-minute inspection of the -tires. - -He nodded his head, finding them satisfactory. Woody was watching -Randy, who had taken a casual look around at the cars behind and the -cars ahead. Randy now cramped his front wheels hard over to the right, -but did it without attracting attention. He caught Worm's eye, and Worm -gave him a quick wink. - -"Good luck," said Worm. Randy waved, and Worm signaled to Woody to -leave the starting area and get themselves a position by the racing -pits, which were right opposite the starting line. - -"Why did he cramp his front wheels around?" Woody asked. - -"Just as soon as they drop the starting flag," Worm replied, "he'll be -around that Jag in front of him and have only six cars ahead instead -of nine. That is, if he's lucky." - -Everything now became swiftly quiet. There was no more roaring from -the pack of cars, whose drivers were tensely watching the starter. He, -a rubber ball of a man, dressed in white pants with a multicolored -shirt of violent pattern, was standing to one side with his back to the -drivers. He had a flag in his hand and was casually scratching beneath -his chin with the end of the stick. Suddenly he leaped into the air, -his two hands above his head, and brought the flag down like a comic -ballet dancer. - -With a roar, almost of rage, the pack of cars leaped forward. Woody saw -five of them flash by so fast that he couldn't even get a glimpse of -the numbers, and then the Black Tiger sprang by screaming down to the -right-angle bend a quarter of a mile away. - -"Och, he's a bonny driver," said Worm, his face glistening with -excitement. "Did ye see that, mon? They had him positioned eleventh, -and he lopped off three cars right at the start." Woody was hardly -listening. He was watching the Tiger, which flung after the cars ahead -like a hound after deer. The first eight were in a bunch when they -reached the corner. There were a series of roars as they changed down -to negotiate the turn, and then they were gone, screaming up to the -hairpin that lay ahead. - -"Yon Butcher Bend is a bad one," said Worm. "I'm hoping he'll use mair -care than courage in getting roond it." - -Neither could see anything of the race now, though they could hear the -roaring of the engines and the squeal of tires as the pack slid around -the first hairpin. - -"They'll be here in a minute," said Worm. "Count the cars ahead of the -Tiger." - -It seemed less than a minute before the first of the cars appeared. It -was Tom Wisdom, driving his big red Ferrari, with the figure 4 making -a white splash on its side. After him, hardly a quarter length behind, -came Kurt Kreuger in a blue Jag. Then a Thunderbird, number eleven, an -Allard, another Jag, and then the Black Tiger. - -"Sixth," announced Worm. "Nae! Wait a minute! Watch this!" - -The Jag ahead of Randy zipped by them with the Tiger on her tail. Then -the driver changed down to get ready for the right-angle bend ahead. In -that second, Randy slapped his foot down hard on the accelerator. There -was a cry of "Oooo" from the spectators, and the Tiger flashed past the -Jag. - -"He's going too fast for that corner," said Worm. "He'll roll her over." - -Everybody strained forward to see what would happen. The Tiger -snarled and swerved wide almost to the edge of the track. Then with -a deep-throated roar, she clawed around the corner, her rear wheels -skidding, and was off down the straightaway like a bolt. - -"Did you see that?" someone next to Woody called excitedly. "He took -the Jag and didn't change down until he was on the fifty-yard mark." - -"Then he changed down twice in two seconds," said another. - -"Brother, he'll strip a few gears if he keeps that up," said a third. - -"Not that guy," put in another. "He's a real driver. When _he_ gets -into a car, he's part of the engine." - -The voice of the announcer on the loud-speaker cut in, "Captain -Randolph in the new Italian car, the Black Tiger, is now fourth," he -said. "Ahead are Tom Wisdom in number four, a Ferrari; Kurt Kreuger, -second, in his XK140 Jag; Pete Nevins in a blue Ferrari, number -thirteen; and then Randolph. Randolph passed two cars ahead of him on -two bends. The first on the right-angle bend, turn number one, right -after the start-finish line, and the second, Fred Manini's Thunderbird -on the hairpin. He's driving beautifully and is out to win. This looks -like the battle of the day. The Black Tiger corners like a cat. But the -Ferraris seem to be a match for her. It's nip and tuck all the way. -This is a real driver's race." - -The loud-speaker cut off, and Woody heard a cheer from the far side of -the track. - -"The Black Tiger just took Nevin's Ferrari on the S-bends," the -announcer said. "Randolph is now third, battling to get ahead of -Kreuger in his XK140 Jag. This is the same car that did so well in the -last Le Mans race." - -"Here they come again," cried Worm. - -From far down the track three black bullets hurtled toward them. -Wisdom was in the lead, about a car length ahead, with Kreuger behind -him and then the Black Tiger. They swept by with a roar. The Tiger's -front wheels were abreast of the rear wheels of the Jag. Randy was -sitting back easily in his seat, as cool as if he were out for a -Sunday afternoon drive. There was a slight smile on his face and not a -suggestion of tenseness anywhere about him. Suddenly Randy changed down -and dropped for a second behind the Jag. Then the Black Tiger leaped -forward, and the two of them went into the corner abreast. Woody saw -the Jag sliding crabwise toward the Tiger and held his breath, for it -looked as if it would broadside into her. But the Jag clawed off when -there was nothing but the thickness of a coat of paint between them. -The two disappeared around the bend in a fury of acceleration, still -abreast. - -Now he had to await a report on the race through the announcer over the -loud-speaker. It was not long in coming. - -"Randolph's still fighting to get by Kreuger's XK140," he said. "He -nearly made it at the right angle after the start-finish line but got -crowded over. At the hairpin he dropped half a length behind. They're -shooting the S-bends now neck and neck. Ah. Here it is! Randolph took -those S-bends at full bore, pulling ahead of the Jag with inches -between them. He must have been doing a hundred and forty. Now he's -second with only Wisdom's Ferrari ahead, and battling for the lead." - -The next two laps the Ferrari and the Black Tiger passed by in the same -position. Wisdom knew all Randy's racing tricks and could anticipate -them. The spectators had forgotten the rest of the field, only a few -lengths behind, to concentrate on the two lead cars. It became obvious -that the Ferrari had a quicker getaway and so could make up distance -lost on the corners. But at every bend in the course, the Black Tiger -was on her tail, worrying her, seeking for an opening to get through -and take the lead. - -Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd in the direction of Butcher's -Bend. Woody looking over there could see what looked like a small cloud -of smoke arising. Somebody spoke hurriedly to the flagman in front of -him, and he stepped out onto the course waving a yellow flag. - -"What's the matter?" Woody asked, turning to Worm. - -"Accident," Worm shouted. "Somebody's hurt." - - - - - 7 - - -An ambulance, its siren screaming, sped down the track in the direction -of Butcher Bend. It was back in a few minutes, drove through the pit -area and out onto the main road. Then the announcer said over the -loud-speaker, "We regret to say there has been an accident at turn -number two. The Black Tiger, driven by Captain Randolph, went out of -control, and Captain Randolph has been taken to the hospital. It is not -thought that he is badly hurt. We'll let you know his condition as soon -as we get a report--" - -Woody didn't wait to hear any more. - -"Let's go," he said to Worm and jumped into the Dodge. - -In all its life, Worm's venerable Dodge had never done more than -thirty-five miles an hour, but on the trip to the San Diego General -Hospital, it made forty-five, protesting at every revolution of its -engine. - -When they got there, Woody had some difficulty convincing the -receptionist they should be allowed to see Randy. "I can't do anything -without the surgeon's permission," she said quietly though not without -sympathy. - -"Surgeon," cried Woody, "is it that bad?" - -The receptionist gave a ghost of a smile. "Surgeons treat cuts as well -as fractures and broken heads," she said. "You'll have to wait." - -They waited an agonizing hour without any news at all. Then a young -doctor came through, and the receptionist left her desk and spoke to -him. The doctor came over to them. - -"Are you relatives of Captain Randolph?" he asked. - -"Not relatives. Friends," said Woody. - -"We're his pit crew," said Worm. "We service his car when he's racing." - -"I see," said the surgeon. "Well, he says he has a daughter at this -address. He'd like to see her. She's in San Diego apparently. Can one -of you go and get her?" - -"I'll go," said Woody. "How is he, doc? Is he badly hurt?" - -"Well," said the doctor, "he's a lucky man. It's lucky for instance -that he has an artificial foot. That was crushed. Had it been his real -foot, the bone would have been splintered so badly we might have had -to amputate at the knee. As it is, he has a leg fracture, a dislocated -shoulder, and bad burns on the torso and thighs. He's a remarkable man. -He should be suffering from shock and in need of sedatives. But his -main concern is his car. Otherwise he's quite calm, and his mind is -clear." - -"Gee," said Woody. "I'm sure glad to hear it isn't too serious." - -The doctor laughed. "If it happened to me, I'd call it very serious -and give up racing for the rest of my life. Here's the address. He's -anxious to see his daughter so she doesn't get any false reports on his -condition." - -Woody took the slip of paper, which had the address of an apartment -house on Front Street in San Diego. Without asking Worm, he got into -the Dodge and drove over there. On the way over, he kept thinking about -the best way to break the news. When he arrived, he still had not -reached a formula. He pressed the bell and when the door opened it is -probable that even if Woody had memorized what to say, he would have -forgotten it. - -The girl who opened the door was about his age. She had red hair that -looked like burnished copper. It was cut in a page boy and came down -to her shoulders. She wore a black turtle-neck sweater and a skirt of -a dark green material that spread out like a ballerina's from a tiny -waist. Her skin was milk white, and her eyes had a trace of a teasing -look in them. - -"Yes," she said politely when she opened the door. - -"Are you Miss Randolph?" Woody asked. - -"Yes." - -"I'm Woody Hartford. I was working in the pit with your father at the -races today." - -"Oh," she said. Now Woody was stuck. He could find no appropriate words -that would not alarm her. He decided to plunge on. - -"He's not badly hurt, but he's been in an accident," Woody said. "The -Black Tiger turned over and he's at the hospital and--" - -"Wait until I get my coat," the girl interrupted. She dashed into the -apartment and was back in a second, struggling into a white lamb's-wool -half coat. She pushed past him and down the stairs with Woody in -pursuit. - -"There's my car," he said pointing to the Dodge. - -The girl gave it a brief glance. "We'll take mine," she said and ran to -a red MG parked by the curb. Woody had just time to get in before she -had started it and was speeding down the streets. Woody was surprised -at the MG's acceleration and cornering ability. On the way to the -hospital he told the girl all he knew of Randy's injuries. Sitting -next to her, he realized that she was even prettier than he had thought -at first glance. And she drove like a wizard, snaking surely through -the traffic without a second's indecision. - -At the hospital she was quickly admitted to the ward. Woody followed -her to the door with Worm. He hadn't been invited but realized this was -a good chance to find out how Randy really was and talk to him. - -"Hello, Daddy," said the girl rushing through the door to her father's -bed. - -"Hi, Rocky," he replied. "Had a little bad luck. The Tiger went out of -control and turned over on me, and I busted my leg. Got a few scratches -as well but nothing much." The words were silently contradicted by the -bandages that swathed the side of his head. He looked up and saw Woody -and Worm standing at the door. - -"There's my pit crew," he said. "Come on in. Have you met my daughter, -Rocky?" - -He introduced them, and Rocky explained that Woody had brought her over. - -"What happened to the car?" Woody asked. "How did it get out of -control?" - -"Hard to say," replied Randy. "She behaved beautifully right up to the -time of the accident. I'd just taken that right-angle turn right after -the start-finish line and was going into the hairpin. I had an overlap -on Tom in the Ferrari, and the steering went. Wheel just spun around -loose in my hand. Luckily I was on the outside, otherwise I'd have hit -the Ferrari. Instead I sideswiped a stack of hay bales and turned over. -I hope the Tiger isn't too badly damaged. There was a small fire, but -they put that out in a hurry." - -Nobody said anything for a while. Then Randy said, "She handled like a -dream. She's a beautiful car--the best I've ever driven. I don't see -how she can fail to beat any competition that's offered her." - -In all this time Worm had said nothing. Now, speaking very slowly, he -said, "If ye've any sense in yere head, ye'll forget all aboot the -Black Tiger and racing. This is the second time for ye. Yere luck is -going tae run oot one of these days." But Randy only laughed. - -A nurse came in then and shooed them all out of the room. Down in the -lobby, Steve and Mary Jane were waiting. They'd come over after the -accident, which had taken place within a hundred feet of where they -were standing. - -"Man," said Steve. "He's lucky to be alive. The Tiger rolled over on -him twice and then caught fire. They had to put out the fire to get at -him." - -Mary Jane gave Woody a questioning look. "Oh," said Woody, "pardon -me. I'd like you to meet Randy's daughter, Rocky." He made the -introductions all around. It seemed to him that Mary Jane was a little -cool with her "How do you do?" but Rocky didn't notice it. - -She turned to Woody and said, "If you wish I'll drive you back so you -can pick up your car. It was really sweet of you to come for me, and -I'm very grateful." - -"It was nothing," said Woody. He could feel himself blushing and was -angry at his reaction. - -"Well," said Rocky, "shall we go? I'm going to come back here and see -whether I can talk them into letting me stay in Daddy's room. He'll -need company, and maybe I can at least spend the night here." - -The two went out to the MG together, and Woody felt the same sort of -lowering of the temperature he had experienced when he called Mary Jane -to say that he couldn't take her out because he'd spent his money on -Cindy Lou. - -When he got back, Mary Jane had gone to the motel with Steve, but Worm -was waiting for him. - -"We'll have tae go oot and get the Black Tiger," he said. "I've had a -word wi' Randy aboot it, and he wants it towed to my garage. We'll take -a look at it and see if it can be towed behind the Dodge." - -They drove back to Torrey Pines then and found the Black Tiger had been -taken to a service shed in the back of the pit area. Worm jacked her up -and crawled underneath to inspect the steering linkage. He was there -ten minutes, and when he came out he had a piece of shiny metal shaped -like a large marble in his hand. - -"Steering knuckle," he said. "Sheered clean through." - -Woody stared at it. He'd never known of a steering knuckle breaking -before. It might happen on an old car, but hardly on a new one. - -"How could that have happened?" he asked. - -Worm shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Car may have been dropped in -shipping and yon knuckle slightly fractured. But there's some cars, -laddie, that are just not built tae drive. They're man-killers. And it -comes tae me noo that this is one of them." - -Woody recalled the time he'd seen the Black Tiger in Worm's garage -under the electric lights. There had been something menacing about it -then. - -"Horseradish," he said. "A car's a car. They haven't any feelings of -their own." - -"Maybe not," said Worm. "Yet I've known cars in my day that were -never driven but they hurt or killed somebody." He looked almost with -malevolence at the Black Tiger. "I'm wishing Randy had wrecked ye all -together," he said with surprising feeling. - - - - - 8 - - -It was a month before Randy was able to get up to Hermosa Beach to see -Worm and find out for himself what had been done on the Black Tiger. -In that time, Woody had been down to San Diego twice to see him, and -had seen quite a bit of Rocky too. In fact, he'd seen enough of her to -become aware that Mary Jane, despite an elaborate unconcern, didn't -approve of their meetings at all. He tried once to explain that since -Rocky was Randy's daughter, he was likely to see her as well as her -father when he went to San Diego, and that was all there was to it. - -"You don't have to go driving around the city in that midget car of -hers," Mary Jane said. - -"It's a full-size MG TF," Woody said. "And if I get half a chance I'm -going to race it." - -"Why doesn't she race it herself?" countered Mary Jane. - -"She's going to, in the women's races. But she said she'd let me drive -it at Hansen Dam." - -"Woody Hartford," said Mary Jane. "If you drive that car in a race, you -can say good-by to me. I don't ever want to see you again." - -Woody was thinking over this ultimatum when Randy came hobbling into -the garage on crutches, with Rocky at his side. - -"Hello," cried Randy as cheerfully as a wedding guest. "I see you're -busy as usual. Where's my old friend Worm?" - -"There," said Woody pointing under a big Buick. One thin foot of Worm's -showed, revealing cotton socks of a pale lemon color. This foot wiggled -a greeting, and Worm's voice came from underneath the automobile. "I'll -be oot in a minute," he said. "When I get this bell housing back again." - -"Take your time," said Randy. "Just a social call." - -Woody grinned across at Rocky. "How's the MG?" he asked. - -"Just super," she said smiling back. "All ready for Hansen Dam. I sent -in my forms last night. How about you?" - -"Well, er," said Woody. "I didn't get around to it yet." - -Rocky looked at him out of her teasing, half-mocking eyes. "You'd -better hurry," she said. "You've only got two more days. Unless you'd -prefer not to race." - -"Oh, I want to race all right," said Woody. "I just didn't get around -to it, that's all." - -"I had her tuned yesterday," Rocky continued. "Purrs like a sewing -machine. Daddy says she's in tiptop racing form right now. If you can -get off for a minute, why don't you drive her around the block a couple -of times? I could come with you." The last sentence was said very -casually. But there was no escaping the invitation it contained. - -"Gee," said Woody, "we're right in the middle of installing a clutch -here. After work, if you're still around, I'd sure like to try her out." - -Worm had by now slid from under the Buick. Watching him come out it -seemed as if there would never be an end to him. First came two long -shins. Then two longer thighs. Then a narrow waist and torso and then a -long arm which fluttered upward to grasp the running board of the car. -By the time he had completely emerged, Rocky was laughing. - -"Do that again, please," she said. "I've never seen so much person come -out from under one car before." - -"Lassie," said Worm, "the Highland Scots are all big people. It's a -short man in the Highlands who doesn't top six feet two inches." He -said this solemnly, without anger or humor, as if he were acquainting -her with a piece of interesting information of which he was proud. - -"How's the Tiger?" asked Randy. - -Worm looked at him sourly. "She's fixed oop as much as she's ever -likely to be," he replied. - -"As much as she's ever likely to be?" repeated Randy puzzled. "Is there -something wrong that can't be repaired?" - -"Nae," said Worm fishing for a cigarette, for whenever he got out -from under a car, he saluted his liberation by lighting one. "There's -naething that can't be repaired. But there's some cars, as ye well -know, that hae hidden traps and faults in them. The best mechanic in -the world canna find them. And I'm thinking that yon Black Tiger is one -of them." - -"You mean that there's something basically wrong with her design?" -asked Randy. - -"Nae," said Worm. "There's naething wrong there. She's as perfect a -piece of automobile engineering as you or I are ever likely tae see. -Davie would have approved of her entirely. But think of it this way, -mon. There's several thousand moving parts in an automobile like that. -They're all moving at high speed--faster than an ordinary car--and -under peak pressures. Yon car has never been tried on a track before -ye took it oot. It's full of bugs ye can no eliminate on a designer's -table or in the factory. They have to be found out on the race track. -Some cars they never get the bugs out of. They're man-killers from -the first time they're driven to the time they give them up. It's my -opinion that the Black Tiger is one of them." - -Randy listened to all this very seriously. He was looking straight at -Worm and never took his eyes off him while the latter was talking. - -When he had finished he said, "This is an old difference between us, -Worm. You think that there are certain cars that are man-killers. And -I think that there are cars that kill or maim drivers until they've -found out how to build them better. That, from my point of view, is one -of the objects of racing--to design fast, efficient, safe automobiles. -The Black Tiger probably has a few bugs in her. But I think she's the -finest designed automobile I've ever seen. I intend to drive her and -find out what the bugs are. - -"By the way, I wrote the company about that broken steering knuckle. -They've replied that they're checking with the shippers. Their only -explanation is that the car must have been dropped. The knuckle is made -of the finest chrome steel, and they cannot understand how, except -through some very heavy blow, it could have sheered off. - -"They're going to foot the bill for all the repairs. They are anxious -to know whether I'll enter her in the Santa Barbara Road Races in -September." - -"Ye're daft if ye didn't write an tell them no," said Worm sourly. - -Randy laughed--a laugh of almost boyish glee. "Nobody will ever change -you, Worm," he said. "Of course I didn't. I wrote and said that the -Black Tiger will be at Santa Barbara and I'll be behind her wheel. -Furthermore, I hope you and Woody will agree to form my pit crew." - -"Och, mon," said Worm desperately, "why do ye ask me?" - -"Because you're my friend," said Randy soberly. - -"It's because ye're my friend that I dinna want tae be there," replied -Worm. - -"You'll be there just the same. Won't you?" - -"Aye," said Worm with resignation. - -The two went over to the Black Tiger. - -"Daddy," Rocky said, "if you're going to look over the Tiger, can Woody -and I take the MG around the block?" Woody knew that she wasn't really -asking her father's permission but was hinting to Worm to release him. -Worm took the hint. - -"Be back in half an hour," he said. "We've got tae get that clutch in -before we close the shop." - -When they got into the MG, Woody turned to Rocky and said, "What's with -Worm and racing? Why does he seem to be half afraid of it, as if he was -always expecting trouble?" - -"Didn't he ever tell you?" countered Rocky. - -"No. Was he a racing driver once?" - -"Yes," Rocky replied. "He and Daddy were great friends. They were the -two most promising racing drivers in Europe. Of course this was before -I was born. Daddy was about twenty and Worm the same age." - -"What happened?" Woody asked. - -"I don't think I ought to tell you," Rocky said. "It's Worm's secret, -and maybe you really ought to ask him. Though I'd advise waiting until -he's ready to tell you. I think he will one day. Here, you take over." -She pulled the MG to the curb. Woody climbed out, and she slid over -into his seat. - -As Woody got back into the MG behind the wheel, he saw the Jacksons' -car going by. Mrs. Jackson was driving and Mary Jane was sitting beside -her. She stared at him in disbelief and then suddenly turned away and -looked straight ahead. - - - - - 9 - - -For the next two weeks Woody saw a great deal more of Rocky than he did -of Mary Jane. He felt vaguely guilty about it. The business of getting -the MG ready for the Hansen Dam races put him constantly in Rocky's -company. They went to the tech inspection together, and Woody, with -Worm's assistance, remedied the various defects in the MG that the -inspectors demanded be repaired. They were minor--a new tire, a stop -light that didn't work, some adjustment to the brakes so that all four -wheels locked evenly, and one or two other odds and ends. - -Woody had to admit to himself that he liked Rocky. As a matter of fact, -the more he saw of her and the more he was with her, the more he liked -her. But he also liked Mary Jane, and he wondered whether there might -not be some character defect in himself, hitherto undetected, because -of this. Could a guy be keen on two girls at the same time? He hadn't -read much on the subject, but what little he had suggested that this -was contrary to human nature. Most fellows seemed to have just one -girl. Yet there he was with two and loath to give up either of them. - -Rocky had all the things that Mary Jane didn't. She loved cars and -would talk about them for hours. She drove like a wizard and was quite -skillful when it came to making repairs. As a matter of fact, she knew -more about sports cars than Woody did, though she was very tactful at -concealing this. - -Mary Jane, on the other hand, was more feminine. Maybe she didn't know -much about cars and was somewhat averse to them. But she was more of a -girl and, indeed, prettier than Rocky. Woody sometimes wished that the -two could somehow be combined, for the result would have been ideal for -him. Woody would hardly think of taking Rocky to a dance, nor would -he think of asking Mary Jane to help take the head off an engine. -Combined, he would have a girl who could go dancing and work on cars -with him as well. - -Steve was not a great help in this dilemma. "What you think you're -doing?" he asked. "Getting together a harem?" - -"If you want a punch in the nose you came to the right guy," said Woody. - -"Who? Me?" said Steve innocently. "Your old pal? All I have is your -welfare at heart. Just don't like to see a promising young mechanic -getting dame trouble so early in his career." He skipped quickly out of -the garage as Woody threw one of Worm's dirtier oil rags at him. - -The matter came to a head one evening shortly before the Hansen Dam -race when Woody had a date with Mary Jane. - -She was tight-lipped through the dinner and Woody was careful not to -talk very much about either the race or cars. When they were sitting -over a dessert of sherbet, Mary Jane said suddenly, breaking an awkward -silence, "Woody, are you going to race at Hansen Dam?" - -"Sure," said Woody, pretending to be surprised by the question. - -"I suppose Rocky has talked you into it," said Mary Jane. - -"No, she didn't," Woody replied. "I'm racing her car. But she didn't do -anything to persuade me. I wish I could get you to understand that I -just like racing cars. It means a lot to me. It's the one thing that I -really like doing." - -"If you cared anything about me at all you wouldn't race," Mary Jane -said, looking straight into Woody's eyes. - -"Gee," said Woody, "this hasn't got anything to do with whether I care -for you or not. You know I care for you. It's just that I like racing, -that's all. And I've got a swell chance to race Rocky's car--" - -"Don't mention that Rocky to me again," Mary Jane flared. "She's just -a scalp-hunter. She's out to collect all the scalps she can. And I can -see that she's already added yours to her collection." And with that -Mary Jane got up and headed for the door. - -Woody had a hard time paying the check in time to catch up with her. -He tried to explain more to her about racing, but people kept looking -at them, and even when he drove her home, he knew that she was not -listening to him. - -Her parting words were "You can make your choice between Rocky and me. -And don't expect me to stand around weeping while you do." - -This time Woody got mad. - -"There isn't any choice between you and Rocky," he said. "That's just -your excuse. The choice is between you and racing. And right now, for -your information, Miss Jackson, I'm choosing racing." - -With that he slammed the door of the car and drove off. He hadn't -gone more than a quarter of a mile before he regretted such an angry -parting. He wondered whether he ought not to go back and try to patch -things up. But then he recalled how mad Mary Jane had been over the -money he spent on his hot rod, Cindy Lou. And at the memory he gritted -his teeth and drove on. It was time for a real showdown with Mary Jane, -he told himself. She would either have to take him, cars and racing, or -find some other guy. He wasn't going to give up his chief interest in -life for Mary Jane, and he found it selfish of her to ask him to do so. - -Early Saturday he was at Hansen Dam with Rocky and Steve. Rocky had -raced her MG before and was well known to many of the other drivers and -their crews. They drifted over to her pit and were introduced to Steve -and Woody. She seemed to be very popular with the racing crowd and held -in considerable respect by them. One driver in particular, a long, -dark-haired youth named Pete Worth whom Woody had never seen before, -seemed exceptionally friendly with Rocky. Woody decided that he didn't -like the guy though he couldn't say why. - -"Racing today?" Pete asked Rocky when they met. - -"Of course," said Rocky. "Second race. Woody's driving the MG in number -four." - -"That so?" said Pete looking Woody over. "Haven't seen you on any of -the tracks before. You from back east?" - -"No," said Woody shortly. - -"This is his first race," Rocky explained. - -"Hope you know the track," said Pete. "Lot of hero drivers have wound -up on the hay bales on this one." - -"What are you trying to do, scare him?" asked Rocky. - -"Me? No. But that number-four turn is a pistol. Well, see you." He -turned to Woody. "Good luck," he said. - -"Who is he?" Woody asked when the other had gone. - -"He races a lot," said Rocky. "He's a first-class driver. If you can -keep him in sight, you're doing good. But he likes to go around before -the race and find out what kind of competition he's up against. And if -he finds a new driver he tries to throw a scare into him. He's only -joking, of course, but some of the boys don't like it." - -"What kind of a bend is that number four?" asked Woody. - -"Oh, it's not really bad," Rocky replied. "Where is that map of the -course? Here it is. Look, there's a long run out, about a quarter of -a mile, then a full hairpin bend back again. That's number four. The -only trouble about it is that it's narrow and it's flat. No camber -on it to help you get around. The thing to do is to change down at -the hundred-yard mark to second and then gun her around. If you do it -right, you can drift around the bend. But if you take it too wide, -you'll hit the hay bales on the far side. - -"Remember this. If you do leave the track, don't get back into the race -until a flagman gives you a high ball. And if you spin out and your -engine quits, hold both your hands up over your head as a signal to the -other drivers to miss you--that is if they can. - -"Tell you what. I know this track pretty well. I've raced on it twice -before. The track will be open for practice in a few minutes. Why -don't you take the MG and get in five or six laps to familiarize -yourself with the turns? It'll help a lot." - -"Gee, thanks," said Woody. He climbed into the MG and settled behind -the wheel. - -"Fasten your safety belt and take this," said Rocky. She handed him a -heavy white crash helmet. "Here," she said, "I'll fasten it for you." -Her fingers, when they touched the side of his face to fasten the chin -strap, seemed cool and comforting. - -Woody gave a little wave of his hand, put the racing goggles from -his helmet down over his eyes, and drove the MG from the pit to the -starting area of the track. A flagman signaled him to stop, and five -cars, all in a huddle, zipped past. Then came two more. The flagman -waved his arm and Woody swept out onto the track. He revved the MG -up, and she took off so fast that he could feel himself pressed back -against the seat. There was an angry roar from behind and a Singer -stormed past him. Woody started to move over to the left instinctively. -In the same instant a Porsche Speedster swept by him on the left. - -"Cripes," said Woody to himself, "I'd almost forgotten. They pass any -side they want to." - -He felt his knees shaking a little from nervousness, and his hands were -a little unsteady on the wheel. Then he thought of Rocky watching him, -changed from second to third and third to high and blasted down the -track after the two cars. - -There was a corner in front of him before he realized it. It seemed to -be hurled out of space toward him. He dropped down into third, revving -up for a second in neutral. He heard a tire scream as he pulled the -steering wheel over to the left. The MG picked up a rear wheel skid, -careened over to her right a little, scrabbled around the corner, and -was off again. But Woody had hardly time to congratulate himself before -there was another bend ahead. Again he changed down, braking hard to do -so. He turned the wheel to the right, hit the accelerator, and with a -car on either side of him, skated, his rear wheel protesting, round the -bend. - -"So that's how it's done," he said. "You slam on the brakes, change -down, rev her hard, pick up a rear wheel skid, and get around." He -began to feel a little more confident. - -His confidence was nearly wrecked, however, when he came to bend -number four. A series of signs before it marked off the distances from -the hairpin; two hundred yards, one hundred yards, and fifty yards. -He remembered Rocky's advice and changed down at a hundred. But he -was still going too fast when he entered the hairpin. He picked up a -four-wheel drift, and the steering wheel spun around crazily between -his hands. Woody hit the accelerator hard three or four times and -turned the steering wheel in the direction in which he was skidding. A -monument of hay bales, stacked around a concrete telephone pole, loomed -before him. Then they flew past, the steering wheel steadied, and he -was off down the straight again. - -He made five laps before he decided that he was at all familiar with -the course. - -"You did swell," said Steve when he got back to the pits. "But, boy, -for a moment I thought you were going to wind up among the hay bales." - -"Didn't you tell me that you'd never raced before?" Rocky asked. - -"That's right," said Woody. - -"Well, it's hard to believe," she replied. "A lot of drivers I know -wouldn't have got out of that four-wheel skid. If Daddy had seen that, -he'd have said you didn't have to learn to drive. You were born knowing -how." - -"Thanks," said Woody and he could feel himself blush. - -"The track is now closed," said the announcer over the loud-speaker. -"Cars for the first event please come to the starting grid." - - - - - 10 - - -The first event was for the big cars--three thousand cc.'s and over. By -common consent the three watched it from the start-finish line where -they also had a fair view of what was happening at turn number one. -Rocky, indeed, went out onto the starting grid to talk to some of the -drivers who were friends of her father. Tom Wisdom was there in his -Ferrari, and Woody could see him talking seriously to Rocky. He guessed -he was asking her about Randy. - -"Is this big stuff much tougher to handle than the MG's?" Woody asked -when she returned. - -"Some people say so. But Daddy says no. He says although they are -faster and heavier, they are also more easily controlled than the light -cars. Of course, a Ferrari is a lot more fun to drive than an MG. They -average about a hundred and twenty around the track, including the -hairpins and other bends, while an MG is doing super if it can average -seventy. I think it's just a matter of instinct and experience. And I -can't say which is the most important. You can't do it all on instinct. -And you can't do it all on experience either. Some of the top drivers -are those who have been racing the shortest while." - -They only watched the first half-dozen laps of the first race because -Rocky had to get ready for her turn, which followed immediately. Tom -Wisdom won, and he was over in Rocky's pit just as she was ready to -leave for the starting area. - -"Congratulations," said Rocky holding out a slim hand to him. - -"Thanks," said Tom. "Good luck, kid. I came to tell you there's a -little oil right as you go into bend three. Not much. Nothing to worry -about. But I just didn't want you sharing the same ward with Randy." - -"Oh, he's out of the hospital now," said Rocky. "But thanks all the -same. I'll take it easy." - -Steve meanwhile had climbed into the driver's seat beside Rocky. - -"Pile on in if you're coming," he said, leaving Woody to climb on the -back. Tom swung a leg over the side and crouched down beside him. - -"You driving today too?" he asked. - -"Yes," yelled Woody over the roar of the engine. - -"Saw you during the practice lap," said Tom. "Nice bit of work on that -hairpin. Driven much before?" Woody didn't think he heard his reply. - -There were eighteen cars in the race, and Rocky had drawn the ninth -position in the starting line-up. Ahead of her were five MG's, two -Singers, and a Porsche. - -Rocky seemed completely calm as she did up her chin strap and pulled on -her racing gloves. Woody wondered whether the calm was all pretense, -whether she didn't feel waves of anxiety going up and down her spine, -and whether her knees weren't trembling a little. - -"Good luck, Rocky," he said as they left the starting area. The smile -she gave him was not the least bit strained. It was eager, and her eyes -danced with excitement. In Woody's opinion, she was looking forward -eagerly to the race and had no qualms about it. - -"Thanks," Rocky replied. "This is going to be lots of fun." She looked -around at the cars ahead, behind, and on either side of her, waved to -one or two of the other drivers, and seemed in every way completely -relaxed. - -Back in the racing pits, Woody said to Steve, "Rocky doesn't seem a bit -nervous." - -Tom, who overheard the remark, smiled. - -"She and her father have nerves of steel," he said. "Just when other -people begin to get jittery, they begin to feel cool. I've been driving -fifteen years now. And I can tell you there hasn't been a race yet that -I didn't heartily wish myself somewhere else a few minutes before the -starter brought down his flag. There they are! They're off!" - -A swarm of cars roared by them, and Woody hardly caught a glimpse of -the big five on Rocky's MG before it had flashed by. - -Woody wished he could get over to the hairpin to see how Rocky handled -it. But he was compelled to stay in the racing pits in case the car -developed any trouble. He was able to see only snatches of the race as -the cars passed by the start-finish line at the end of each lap. The -rest, however, he followed through the announcer on the loud-speaker. -He confined his comments for the first four laps to the Porsche and -another MG, number fourteen, which had started a battle for leadership -at once. But by the end of the sixth lap, Rocky had come up to fifth -place and was fighting it out with a Singer ahead of her. Woody saw the -two speed by, and they were almost abreast at the bend. But the Singer -had the inside track and was the first around the bend. - -The announcer now was beginning to take some notice of Rocky. "Keep -your eyes on Rocky Randolph in car number five," he said. "Miss -Randolph is the daughter of Captain Jim Randolph, one of the great -sports car racers of the day. She is driving an MG TF and doing a -magnificent job of it. Those who say that driving ability isn't -inherited may think differently after watching her. She and a Singer, -number twenty-two, are going into the hairpin together. The Singer has -the inside track. Boy! Look at that. The Singer, driven by Miss Simmons -of San Diego, took the hairpin a little wide, skidded to the far side, -and Randy slipped through the gap. She's now ahead--fourth in the race -and overhauling the Porsche in front of her." - -"Here they come," said Steve excitedly. "There's the first MG, the -Porsche--and there's Rocky--third." - -The announcer picked up the rest of the lap for them. Rocky was having -a hard time getting by the Porsche. She could corner better, but the -Porsche had more acceleration on the straightaway. She remained in -third place for the next two laps, and then the announcer said that she -had dropped back to fourth. - -"Must be having some trouble," said Tom. They waited anxiously. The -first MG passed, then the Porsche, a Singer, then two more MG's, and -finally Rocky came almost crawling down the track. - -She steered into the racing pits, and Woody saw at a glance that her -right-hand rear tire was almost flat. - -Nobody said a word. Steve had the jack out and the rear of the MG off -the ground in almost the time it takes to describe it. In the meantime -Woody had taken off the flanged racing hub that held the wheel in -place. It was the work of less than a minute to remove the wheel and -put on the spare, and Rocky was back in the race in three minutes. But -in that three minutes, all the other cars had gained a lap on her. Try -as she would there wasn't time to make it up and get back into the lead -again. She did make up half a lap, but the checkered finish flag had -fallen before she could improve her position. - -"Tough luck," said Woody when she drove back into the pit. "You were -doing swell." - -Rocky's eyes were still bright with excitement. "It was wonderful," she -said. "I haven't had so much fun since the last time I raced. You boys -did a terrific job changing that wheel. Only lost a lap. Could easily -have lost two if you'd bungled it." Her smile was full of appreciation. - -There was time, in the interval provided by the third race, to check -the MG over. Woody took it down to the gas truck to be filled up and -to have the oil checked. Rocky reported that the engine had behaved -beautifully, so he did nothing there but see that all the spark-plug -leads were firm and examine the valve cover for oil leaks. There were -none. When he got back to the pits, he found it hard to appear cool. -Steve and Rocky were watching the race, and he was glad of that. Rocky -had put on such a wonderful performance that for the first time he -became aware that he had better do at least as well if he was not to be -disgraced in her eyes. - -He sat behind the wheel and looked into the rear-vision mirrors. They -seemed to be adjusted right. He got out and looked at his tires. -Nothing wrong with them. He opened the hood again, took the cap off the -distributor, and looked at the points. They were in excellent shape. - -"What the heck am I doing?" he said to himself, replacing the cap and -shutting the hood firmly. - -"Listen, Woody," he told himself, "all you have to do is keep cool and -drive as well as you can. No sense taking unnecessary risks. You've got -a long time to live. Besides, every other guy in the race is probably -just as scared as you are right now." - -This thought, comforting for a second, was immediately dispersed by a -voice behind him. - -"Feeling O.K.?" somebody said, and he spun around startled by the -unexpected words. It was Pete Worth, to whom he had been introduced -earlier in the day. - -"Sure," replied Woody with all the calm that he could summon. - -"Just dropped by to make sure you were in the race," Pete said. - -"Sure, I'm in the race," said Woody, nettled. "Why wouldn't I be?" - -"Oh, nothing," said Pete. "I saw that Rocky had some trouble and -thought it might keep you out of it." He was quite cool, almost -insolently so. - -"Just a flat tire," said Woody. - -"Ah," said Pete. "Well, lucky it wasn't a front wheel. You can lose -control real fast with a front-wheel blowout. See you down there. I'm -in ninety-nine--the green TF." He pointed to his car, which was three -pit places away. Then he sauntered off. Woody fancied that he was -smiling slightly. - -"Just trying to throw a scare into me," he said to himself. -"Front-wheel blowout! Bet they don't get one of them in a million -races." Nonetheless, he went around and inspected the tread on his -front tires. It looked good. The left-hand one was a little more worn -than the right. But not very much. - -"Both tiptop tires," he said to himself. But he wished the left-hand -tire didn't show as much wear as it did. Probably the front end was a -little out of line. That would account for it. He tried to think of -something else. - -When Rocky and Steve came back, Woody was looking very solemn. - -"You feeling all right?" Rocky asked. - -"Sure," said Woody, "raring to go." But actually he felt just like Tom -Wisdom did before a race. He wished he was somewhere else. - - - - - 11 - - -Woody didn't feel any better when he was down on the starting grid with -a school of cars snorting roaring around him. In fact he felt a lot -worse, though he would scarcely have believed it was possible to feel -worse. Only Steve seemed to notice, however, for both Rocky and Tom who -came down to the area with him, were chatting away quite gaily. Woody -thought their attitude positively brutal. - -"Don't you worry, pal," Steve said. "You'll do all right. Take my word -for it. Have you done up your safety belt?" Woody discovered that he -hadn't. When he got it buckled, the firm clasp around his waist made -him feel better. But it didn't stop the trembling in his knees over -which he seemed to have no control at all. He hoped Rocky couldn't -see the trembling, but she was busy with Tom and not paying him much -attention anyway. - -Woody looked around and licked his lips, which were uncomfortably dry. -There wasn't much moisture in his mouth, either. He had drawn a place -well back in the pack. In fact, out of a field of twenty-one, there -were only four cars farther back than his. He got some comfort out of -this. There would be some excuse, perhaps, if he didn't show up too -well. After all, a guy driving his first real race couldn't be expected -to pass seventeen other drivers. He figured that if he passed one or -two of them, he'd be doing well. - -"Where's that guy Pete Worth?" he asked Steve. - -"Oh, he's way up in front. About third or fourth," Steve replied. Well, -that was something. He wouldn't have to worry about Pete Worth passing -him and maybe rubbing it in afterward. - -"Wish I knew the track a little better," he said. - -"Listen, pal," said Steve. "All you have to do is watch the guys ahead. -Watch how they corner. When you see them jam on the brakes, slow down -yourself. When they give her the gun, do the same thing. And if you see -a chance to pass, why take it. And remember, pal, we're all pulling for -you." - -Woody was conscious that Rocky was looking at him. He was also -conscious that the corner of his lip was trembling. He could feel the -twitch in it, but he hoped it was not visible. To make sure, he put his -hand casually up to his mouth. - -"Good luck, Woody," Rocky said. "Got to leave you now. Put your foot in -it whenever you can. She goes like a bomb." - -"See you in about half an hour," said Tom. - -Half an hour, Woody thought. This is one half hour I could do without. -The three left, and he was now alone with all the other cars around -him. An almost lazy silence, disturbed only by the deep beating of -the cars around, settled over the starting area. Woody pushed in his -clutch and put the gearshift in low. His foot kept trembling on the -accelerator so that the note of his engine rose and sank. The driver in -the car on his right hand side looked over at him briefly and winked. -He knows how I feel anyway, Woody said to himself. All eyes were now on -the plump rubber-ball figure of the starter. As usual, he had his back -to the drivers. He bent down, seeming to pick up something from the -track. Then, almost before Woody realized it, he had leaped into the -air and brought down the starting flag. - -Woody let out the clutch as if it were burning his foot and jammed -down on the accelerator. There was a haze of blue smoke before his -windshield, and the whole pack of cars, with him in the middle, shot -forward. Two passed by him and cut in front into a space barely big -enough to hold them. - -"Cripes," said Woody, "that makes me third from last." He changed into -second, into third, and into high, and before he knew it, there was a -knot of cars braking ahead of him to get around the first bend. How -he made it himself he could not recall. He got around in a screech of -tires with glimpses out of the tail of his eye of other cars, inches -from him, swaying and screeching around with their drivers crouched -over their steering wheels. - -When he was around the turn, he glanced, by instinct, into his -rear-vision mirror. It showed the clear view of the track behind him. -There was not a car in sight. He'd dropped to last place in the first -three hundred yards. - -The thought angered him. It angered him as much as the fact that his -legs were still trembling, his mouth as dry as blotting paper, and his -hands unsteady on the wheel. - -He jammed his foot down on the accelerator and watched the needle of -the speedometer creep up to sixty-five, then to seventy, hover there a -fraction of a second, and then move on past. He grinned as he saw he -was steadily overhauling two cars ahead. The stop light on one of them -flashed red. Ahead were a series of S-bends. Woody remembered them -from his trial runs around the track. He glanced at his speedometer. -Seventy-two. - -"O.K., brother," he said, "you're going too fast. But you just might -make it." He entered the first S-bend abreast of the Singer that had -been ahead of him. He left him behind as if the Singer were standing -still. But when he brought the steering wheel over to the right for -the next turn, the MG seemed to lie down on two wheels and started -skittering toward a pile of hay bales. There wasn't time to change to -a lower gear. Woody took his foot completely off the accelerator, and -it seemed for a second as if the car were going to turn over. He was -thrown hard against the side and stabbed his foot on the accelerator -again. For a second the car teetered. Then the MG recovered and flashed -off so close to the bales that he felt a slight thud as his nearside -fender tipped the edge of one of them. - -Ahead now lay two more cars. And another bend. This time Woody changed -down. He revved the engine to a roar in neutral and let the clutch -out hard as he slipped the gear lever over into third. The MG jerked -forward, and Woody headed for a gap between the two cars in front of -him. If the gap remained he could get through. But if it closed he -would be flung against one car or the other. He jammed the accelerator -down and crept into the gap. His front wheels were level with the -driver's seat of the first car and six feet from the rear wheels of the -second car. - -"Come on, baby," he said and urged the MG to more speed. Slowly he -crept abreast of the first MG and was now fully in the gap. The car -beside him started to slip behind. Woody felt a tinge of pleasure and -triumph. He was now ahead of the first MG but not enough to swing -over and pass the second. Suddenly he saw the brake light on the car -ahead flash red for a second. He was braking for a bend. Woody made a -split-second decision. If he braked now, he'd lose the ground he had -made. If he speeded up, it would be to go into a corner again faster -than he should. He hit the accelerator. - -To the spectators it looked as if he were a bolt shot from a crossbow. -His car leaped forward swiftly to pass the one ahead right on the -curve. There was a cry of "Ooh," which Woody heard clearly above the -roar of the engines. - -He had to take a chance now. He was going much too fast. He had to step -on the brakes and risk being hit by the car behind. It was either that -or spin out on the corner. He hit the brakes hard--so hard he could -hear his tires scream and feel the back of his car slew around. Then -he stepped on the accelerator again and pulled the steering wheel over -to the right. For a second it looked as if he was going to spin around -completely on the track. Woody did indeed spin around at a right angle. -But this served to help him around the corner and when he hit the gas -again, he was safely on the straightaway and had passed three of the -cars that had passed him in the early seconds of the race. - -He hardly saw Rocky, Tom, and Steve as he flashed by the start-finish -line. If he stopped for a second to think of what he was doing and the -risks he was taking, the trembling and anxiety would return. Instead, -he concentrated on urging the MG to even greater efforts. - -On the next three laps he passed three more cars. A fourth dropped out -for a pit stop, and that put Woody seventh from the end. Since he had -started out fourth from last he was doing well. He began to feel much -more confident of the MG's ability to stay on the track when other cars -would have skidded off into the hay bales, and began also to enjoy -himself. - -The crisis of the race came at the beginning of the hairpin in the -sixth lap. In the five times he had passed it previously he had noticed -that there was a tendency for the cars to bunch up there. Everyone -slowed down and concentrated more upon getting around the bend than in -passing each other on it. There was a straightaway of about a quarter -of a mile leading to the hairpin, and Woody tearing down this caught -up with a huddle of five cars that had changed down to get around the -hairpin. They were all hugging the inside to give themselves a chance -to skid wide over to the far side of the track when they got around the -hairpin. - -Woody decided to reverse this process. He would start into the hairpin -from the uncrowded far side of the track and try to cut the MG hard -over to the inside when he was around. There would be great risk of a -collision in doing this. But there was also the chance of passing two -or three cars on the one bend if the maneuver came off. - -He approached the hairpin then on the outside and picked a place on -the inside as his target, toward which a red Porsche was speeding. If -things went well the Porsche would be out of the way when he wanted to -get in there. He changed down from fourth to third and third to second, -and, with his engine roaring, cut hard over. - -Then everything happened at once. There was a scream from behind, and -a Singer squeaked by right under his front wheels. It went by as a -black blur, and in so doing, trapped the driver of the Porsche so he -had to step on his brakes to avoid a collision. The gap that Woody had -expected to appear just wasn't there. The Porsche still half filled it. -Woody glanced in his rear-vision mirror. There were two cars on his -tail, the Porsche dead ahead, the Singer, and another car blocking him -on the left. - -His only chance was to cut off the track onto the dirt shoulder and -make room for himself there. He headed the MG for the shoulder, -picked up a skid, slewed sideways, straightened, caught a glimpse of -a telephone pole, pulled his steering wheel hard over to the left, -hit the gas, and then, to his astonishment, found himself around the -hairpin with only the Porsche ahead. - -Woody swallowed hard. He must have passed two or three cars on -the hairpin. But he had nearly broken his neck doing it. The old -nervousness, now forgotten, returned in a flood. His legs began to -tremble. The Porsche fled before him down the straightaway. Woody -changed up instinctively. But when he came to the next bend, he slowed -down well in advance of it, and took the corner cautiously. He was -scared, badly scared. - -He retained his place but didn't pass anybody on the next three laps. -There were only two more to go. But he could not bring himself to take -any more risks. The memory of the skid, of being locked in a whirl of -cars doing sixty miles an hour around a hairpin, and of the telephone -pole hurtling toward him was too fresh in his mind. He made an attempt -at passing the Porsche on the S-bends. But whereas previously he would -have taken a risk and gone hurtling by, trusting that the MG would stay -under control, he now braked and changed down, and the Porsche kept -ahead of him without much trouble. - -"You've got to snap out of this," he told himself. "You've got to take -a couple more chances. Otherwise you'll lose your nerve." - -He steeled himself for another try at the hairpin. He forced himself -to delay changing down and shot the corner from a wide angle. But -just as he thought he was going to get through and felt a tingle of -self-confidence returning, a blue MG ahead spun out. One second it was -holding the track doggedly before him. The next it gave a sort of lurch -or jump and turned broadside on to him. Woody flung his steering wheel -over with a cry almost of anguish. His bumper just missed the front -wheel of the car, which had turned completely around on the track. In -pulling out, he nearly sideswiped another car on his right, and though -he stepped on the gas and pulled ahead out of the mess, he was in a -panic when he got clear of it. - -"I've got to get hold of myself," he kept repeating. "I've got to get -over this." But when the race concluded, he had passed no more cars and -taken no more chances. - -When he pulled up to the pit, Rocky was almost dancing with excitement. -"You drove like a wizard," he said. "I went up to the hairpin to watch -you. It was terrific. You knocked off three cars on that corner and -must have finished about eighth. If you'd had any kind of a position at -the start, you'd have won." - -Tom and Steve were full of congratulations, too. But their words were -empty for Woody. If they knew how he felt, he told himself, they -wouldn't be saying what they were. They wouldn't want to have anything -to do with him. - -For Woody knew that he could have passed at least one or two more cars -except for one thing: he was afraid. It wasn't just nerves or anxiety. -It was plain cold fear. He'd driven his first race and come out of it a -coward. - - - - - 12 - - -Woody made up his mind that the only way he could get over the fear -and dread that he now had of racing was to race some more. In fact, he -determined to do as much road racing as he could. In this decision he -had a willing helper in Rocky, and in the two months after the Hansen -Dam race he drove in five events. He was no longer considered a junior -driver and had got over some of the thrill of seeing his name in the -list of contestants at road-race events. He had even drawn mention in -one of the Los Angeles sports columns as an up-and-coming driver with a -lot of dash and courage. - -When Woody read that paragraph, eagerly pointed out to him by Steve, -he wondered how much the man who wrote it knew of his real reason for -racing. Far from having a lot of dash and courage, he was always filled -with caution and plain fear on the track. He only placed at all in the -events in which he entered because he had a natural driving gift--an -instinctive combination of judgment and timing that took him through -tight spots. But he knew he could do better, a great deal better, if he -could get rid of the black fear that settled on him whenever he came to -a bend with half a dozen other cars roaring around him. - -He wished there was someone with whom he could talk over this problem. -He wished he could discuss the way his palms sweated, his limbs -trembled, and his mouth went dry even as he sat down behind the -driving wheel at the start of a race. He wished he could explain how -those symptoms never left him all through the event; how he was filled -with dread from start to finish and heartily wished he had never taken -up racing. - -Once he thought of mentioning it to Steve and went so far as to say he -always got the shakes just before the start of a race. - -"Shucks, pal, everybody has the same thing," Steve said. "But you get -over it, don't you?" - -Woody didn't have the courage to say no, he didn't get over it. Other -drivers did and took chances and won races. But he, although he seemed -to be taking chances, was actually avoiding them and getting through -on sheer driving talent. He didn't drive a race with any courage at -all. He drove it with nothing else but fear in his mind. If he could -find some courage, he might win a couple of times. But fear held him -back constantly--fear of being wrapped around a telephone pole or being -mangled under the wheels of cars behind or turning over and being -pounded to death in his own car. - -About the nearest he got to talking to anybody about his problem was -one evening when Randy and Rocky had come up to Hermosa Beach and asked -him out to dinner. When dinner was over, Randy, who by now was getting -along without crutches though he had a slight limp, started talking -about racing. He discussed the subject as if it were a philosophy, a -mode of living calling out the very best in the character of those who -followed it. - -Woody had never known him to be so serious before. He wasn't sure -whether the conversation was being held for his own benefit or for -Rocky's. - -"Road racing condenses into a few minutes or hours all the problems, -the fears, and the triumphs of life," Randy said, smoothing his fair -hair with a thin sensitive hand. "It demands the one thing that no man -can get through life without successfully. Self-reliance. There are -millions of people quite talented and able who go through life being -unsure of themselves. They haven't enough self-confidence to take a -risk--to change their jobs, their localities, and so on. They live -rather miserably without ever having fulfilled themselves. - -"But in racing, such people are soon ruled out. The driver who has no -basic confidence in himself will keep coming in last. Either that or -he will develop self-confidence. If he remains unsure of himself, he -will quit racing. Just as in life, if he remains unsure of himself, he -will quit trying and seek some job that offers security rather than -opportunity." - -"You don't think it is possible to get by on just driving skill alone?" -asked Woody. "I mean, suppose there was a man who was just naturally a -good driver. But he really didn't trust himself. Wouldn't he still show -up pretty well on the track?" - -"He would for a while," said Randy, "but after, say, half a dozen -races, he'd be fighting himself. He might think he was racing the car -ahead. But he'd really be racing the guy within him. One part would be -telling him to go ahead and take a few chances and rely on his skill in -getting through. The other part would be telling him to save his skin -and not take any risks. - -"That's where the real testing comes in, of course. But I've seen some -good men crack up, fighting themselves like that. They'd have been a -lot better off if they never went in for racing in the first place. -Unless they win a victory over themselves and achieve self-confidence, -they remain miserable for the rest of their lives. They drop out of -racing. But they can never be happy." - -"What about fear?" said Woody. "I mean you've been in a couple of -accidents. Didn't that make you real scared the next time you drove?" - -"It certainly did and does," replied Randy. "But self-confidence -doesn't mean that a man is without fear. You've got to be afraid, to -get any self-confidence that comes from overcoming fear. But some -people never make it. They spend the rest of their lives doubting their -own abilities. - -"The time I cracked up and had my foot amputated, I broke out in a cold -sweat whenever I thought of racing again. All my friends advised me to -give up the game. On the surface, it would have been the sensible thing -to do. But they did not realize that if I quit, it would have been a -victory for fear, and I would have to live with it for the rest of my -life." - -Up to this point Woody had been on the verge of confessing his own -fears to Randy. But now he found he could not do so. This seemed to -be a battle he had to fight alone. It was one with which none of his -friends could help him. He realized dimly that men always fight their -battles alone--not just in racing cars but in their daily living. They -alone can make the critical decisions, and nobody can help with them. - -"How do you feel about the Black Tiger now?" Woody asked instead of -mentioning his own fears. - -"To be honest with you, I'm scared stiff," said Randy with a laugh. "If -I wasn't scared, I might put off racing her for a little while. But if -I postponed it now, though other people might say I had good reasons, -I'd know that the real reason was fear. And then I might never race -again." Woody did say that he was always scared himself when he got -behind the steering wheel of the MG. But he didn't say that he remained -scared all through the race and deliberately neglected chances to pass -other cars because he was afraid to take them. He felt that both Randy -and Rocky would be contemptuous of him if he did. And he wanted them -both to have a good opinion of him. - -A month remained before the Santa Barbara race. It was a pretty -miserable month for Woody. He got nervous and a little irritable, which -was unusual for him. Both his father and mother noticed the change -in him, and one evening his father put down his paper, took off his -glasses with a swift decision, and nodded to Woody's mother, who left -the room. When she had gone, Mr. Hartford said, "Woody, your mother -and I are both worried about you. You're not eating much, and you seem -nervous all the time. Is there anything the matter?" - -"No," said Woody shortly. Mr. Hartford groaned silently. He could -recall a similar occasion in his own youth when his father had tried to -talk to him man to man, and he had withheld his confidence. He was hurt -that his son should do the same to him now. - -"Son," said Mr. Hartford, "I never pry into your affairs. I look upon -you as a sensible young man of whom I am proud. But I've lived a lot -longer than you. That's a mathematical fact. I don't say I'm smarter -than you. But I've just had more experience. Now if you've got some -sort of a problem that's bothering you that I, with my experience, can -help with, I wish you'd let me know about it." - -"It's nothing, Dad," said Woody. - -"Is it money?" Mr. Hartford persisted. Woody shook his head. - -"Is it Mary Jane? I notice you haven't been seeing much of her lately." -Woody hesitated. He missed Mary Jane a great deal. At one time he might -have been able to talk his problem over with her. But she was so dead -set against racing that all she would tell him would be to give it up. -She wouldn't understand that there was more than racing involved in the -problem. - -"No, Dad," Woody said, "It isn't Mary Jane. It's really nothing at all. -I just don't feel well. I think I'll go for a walk." He left the room -rather hurriedly, for he wanted to avoid further questioning. When he -had gone, Mrs. Hartford came in. - -"Did you find out anything?" she asked. - -"No," replied her husband. "There's something the matter, but only time -will bring it out. The boy has some problem, and feels he ought to keep -it to himself." - -"But we're his parents," said Mrs. Hartford. "Surely he should be able -to tell us." - -Mr. Hartford smiled. "Mother," he said, "when a boy decides not to -discuss his troubles with his parents, it doesn't mean that he doesn't -love them any more. It means that he's becoming a man. I'm pretty proud -of Woody. I'd have been just a little disappointed if he'd broken down -and told me what was the matter with him." - -For two weeks before the Santa Barbara race, Woody spent most of his -time working on the Black Tiger. Randy made the deal with Worm, -agreeing to pay Woody's wages. Randy and Rocky rented an apartment in -Hermosa Beach so they could be near the car, and the Black Tiger was -given a thorough overhaul from rear axle to fan belt. In those two -weeks Woody became more and more fond of Randy. The man had a buoyancy -of spirit and a quick humor that was completely captivating. It was -hard to believe that he had any fears at all about the forthcoming -race. He spoke of it with enthusiasm and excitement, as if it were -something he was looking forward to eagerly. - -Woody often wanted to ask him whether he still felt nervous about it, -but could not bring himself to do so. - -The Thursday before the race, which was to be held over the weekend, -they took the Black Tiger out to the salt flats, and Randy let Woody -drive her. Woody had once wanted nothing more in life than to be seated -behind her wheel. But now that the opportunity was offered him, he -sought to get out of it. - -"I'm not used to the car," he said. "I might chew up your gearbox." - -"Nonsense," said Randy. "Hop in. She's getting maximum torque at six -thousand. Rev her up to that before you change. Then change fast and -with full throttle. You'll get a real thrill out of it." - -When he got going, Woody did get a thrill out of it. For a while he -experienced the old exhilaration at his effortless arrowing forward -in the Black Tiger, with the landscape around reduced to a blur. The -car handled much more delicately than the MG. It was, he told himself, -a real racing machine. He glanced at the speedometer and saw he was -hitting a hundred and sixty in high. But when he got back and climbed -out he was trembling slightly and his mouth was dry. - -"How'd she feel?" asked Randy. - -"Beautiful," Woody replied. - -"One day," Randy said, "you might be able to race her yourself." Woody -hoped heartily that that day would never come. - - - - - 13 - - -There were two other events before the Black Tiger was due to race at -Santa Barbara. In the first, for cars under fifteen hundred cc.'s, -Rocky raced the MG, and drove better than Woody had ever seen her drive -before. She came up from seventh at the starting line to second when -the race was over, and if the race had gone another lap she would have -been first. - -"This is our day, Randy," she told her father when she got back to the -pit. "You're bound to win in the Black Tiger now. I just feel it." - -"If I drove like you, I'd feel it myself," said Randy. - -The second race was for old-style racing cars and more of a novelty -than a sporting event. Woody saw little of it, being busy with -last-minute details on the Black Tiger. The car was in tiptop shape. It -was still the magnet of attention among the other drivers and mechanics -in the pit area. They came over in twos and threes to look over the -engine and comment on the streamlining. Tom Wisdom and Kurt Kreuger, -old rivals of Randy's who were to race against him again, were there. -They were obviously delighted to know that Randy's leg was in good -enough shape for him to race again. - -Woody overheard Tom say to Kreuger, "If it was a matter of guts alone, -Randy would be sure to win. Boy, he's got more guts than all of us put -together." - -"You can say that again," said Kurt. He looked back at the Black Tiger -and shook his big head solemnly. "Hate to say it," he said, "but that -car just bothers me. Too new. Too many unknown bugs in it." - -Tom nodded his head solemnly, and the two drifted off. - -Randy made different pit-crew arrangements for the race than those at -Torrey Pines. "Rocky and Worm stay here at the racing pit in case I -develop some trouble," he said. "Woody, I'd like you to go out to bend -number five and pick a spot by the fence where I can see you as I come -out of the bend. Take along that blackboard and a piece of chalk. When -I come out of the bend, hold the blackboard well up so I can see it, -and chalk on it the number of the lap and my position. If I'm more than -sixth or seventh don't bother giving me the position. But if I'm among -the first five or so, let me know. Understand?" - -"Yes," said Woody. "I'll put the lap number at the top of the board, -and your position down below it." - -"Swell," said Randy. "The race is for thirty minutes. Toward the end, -you can forget about the lap number and just let me know the number of -minutes left. O.K.?" Woody nodded and went off to pick a good spot near -bend number five. - -The Santa Barbara track is laid out roughly in the shape of a -horseshoe. The cars travel around the inside of the shoe and then -around the outside to complete one lap. But it is a horseshoe that has -been badly bent, so that instead of just two hairpins at the feet and -a long slow curve at the top, there are a number of near right-angle -bends as well. - -Woody found a good place behind the snow fence and waited, nerves -tingling, for the race to start. Over the loud-speaker he could hear -the commentator briefing the crowd on what was going to take place. - -"This race," he said, "will commence with a Le Mans start. The cars are -parked on one side of the track and their drivers opposite them on the -other. When the starter brings down his flag, the drivers will sprint -to their cars, jump in, fasten their safety belts, switch on their -engines, and get going. The start, then, is a critical moment. A driver -who can get under way quickly can get ahead of three or four cars he -might not have a chance of passing on the track. - -"Well, there they are, all sitting down waiting for the starting flag. -There are three veteran Le Mans drivers in this event--Kurt Kreuger in -Jag number eight, Tom Wisdom in a red Ferrari, number ten, and Jimmy -Randolph in his new Italian job, the Black Tiger, number two. Randy -has raced this car only once before and was doing well when he broke a -steering knuckle and turned over. He's a great guy to be racing today. -But he has every confidence in his car. Here it is. They're off--" - -The rest of what the announcer said was drowned in a roar of engines. -Woody strained over the snow fence, his eyes on bend number five about -a hundred yards down the track. It was a particularly savage bend with -buildings on either side and a house dead in front when the driver -was halfway around. The house was protected with hay bales. Any car -that didn't get around would run straight into them. A further hazard -consisted of a thick telephone pole at the end of the bend, where most -cars would be swinging wide after making the turn. There were hay bales -around that also. - -Suddenly there was a roar, and the first car appeared around number -five. It was a red Ferrari, number twelve. Then came two more and then -a Jag. Then three in a huddle, the one on the outside just missing the -telephone pole. Woody began to wonder where Randy was. Suddenly the -Black Tiger flashed by in eighth place. Randy, with his newly mended -leg, had not been able to sprint over to his car as fast as the other -drivers. It was typical of the man that he had made no mention of this -additional handicap before the start. - -The announcer picked up the rest of the first lap for Woody. Wisdom -and Kreuger, old rivals, were battling for third place. Ahead of them -was Ben Wedger in a Maserati. There was no mention yet of the Black -Tiger. Woody suspected that Randy was still in eighth place. He waited, -his eyes riveted on turn number five. Suddenly two cars flashed around -it wheel to wheel. The outside car swerved off the shoulder of the -track and looked as if it were going to hit the telephone pole. Woody -could see the driver fighting to bring it back again. He succeeded but -dropped to second place. Then came two more, one on the tail of the -other. The first was Kreuger's Jag, number eight. Then Tom Wisdom in -his red Ferrari. Then a Maserati, number eleven, and then the Black -Tiger. She came around the corner like her namesake, clinging to the -inside of the track and passed the Maserati, going full bore as they -came abreast of Woody. - -"He's fifth now," Woody yelled excitedly. He chalked a big three for -the lap number on the top of the board and a big five for Randy's place -in the last lap below it. - -"They're going into the north hairpin now," said the announcer. "Dave -Kingston is still ahead in number twelve, Kreuger and Wisdom are -fighting it out wheel to wheel. They've come up to second and third -respectively. Wait a minute. What's this. The Black Tiger, driven by -Jimmy Randolph, just shot between Wisdom and Kreuger to take over third -place. That makes it Kingston, Kreuger, and Randolph in the Black Tiger -third. But it's still anybody's race with twenty minutes to go." - -Woody forgot about the sign board in his excitement. He leaned as far -as he could over the snow fence to see the Black Tiger come around -turn number five. There was a tense silence in the crowd, above which -he could hear the roar of the engines. He heard the squeal of wheels -and the coughing spit of Kingston's Ferrari as he changed down for the -bend. Then Kingston was around and after him. Turning the corner in the -same instant was Kreuger's Jag and the Black Tiger, wheel to wheel. As -they flashed by Woody caught a glimpse of Randy, sitting quite relaxed -behind the wheel. There was a slight smile on his face, and then he was -gone, headed for the right-angle bend half a mile down the track. - -"It's Dave Kingston against Jimmy Randolph in the Black Tiger now," the -loud-speaker blared. "Randolph cut in from the far side of the track -on bend six to take over the second place from Kreuger. He's battling -Kingston now for the lead position. As they pass the start-finish line -on the sixth lap it's Kingston, Randolph, Kreuger, and Wisdom. - -"Randolph had an overlap on Kingston's Ferrari twice. This is a great -race--perhaps the greatest we shall see this year. Here they are going -into the hairpin. Kingston is skillfully blocking all Randolph's -attempts to pass. He's holding that inside position and has just a -little more speed than the Black Tiger on the straightaway. Now they're -entering bend number five. It looks as though Randolph is going to take -it wide, relying on the cornering ability of the Tiger to take him -around--" - -Woody didn't have to listen to the rest. He saw it. Kingston's Ferrari -hurtled around the bend on the inside with the Black Tiger on its tail. -The big Ferrari skidded for a fraction of a second, picked up traction, -and hurtled down the straightaway. - -But something went wrong with the Black Tiger. The car took the corner -wide, and Woody could see Randy fighting to get control. It looked as -though he was going to hit the telephone pole, but he managed to miss -it by inches. The car came roaring and fishtailing toward the crowd. -People scattered like dust before a heavy gust of wind. Woody caught -a glimpse of the Tiger hitting the shoulder of the road not a hundred -yards from him. Then it leaped into the air, turned slowly on its side, -and hit the ground upside down. It slithered bumping and screaming, -sparks flying from it, and the wheels spinning, for fifty yards before -it came to a standstill. - -Woody was over the snow fence before anybody could stop him. Flagmen -appeared is if by magic, waving the red accident flags. Woody was -conscious that several cars flashed by, slowing down near him, but he -had no eyes for them. He ran to the Black Tiger, which lay beside the -track, its wheels still spinning in the air. - -"Randy," he shouted, "Randy." - -"Get back," somebody yelled at him and pulled him by the shoulder. -Woody yanked himself savagely free and grabbed the side of the Black -Tiger, attempting to right it. Several other men came to help. Together -they got the Tiger back on its wheels. Randy was in the driver's seat, -but his shape was all wrong. One hand was nothing but a red hunk of -meat. It lay on his safety belt, and it was obvious that he had been -fumbling with it. Blood dripped quietly from it onto his pants. He was -slumped sideways beside the steering wheel but in such a way as to -suggest that his back was broken. His head lay on the seat, and his -face turned up toward them. - -He looked at Woody and attempted a smile, but coughed instead. A little -pink foam came to his lips. - -"Brakes," he said and closed his eyes. - -The ambulance was there in a second, and everybody hustled away to -make room for the ambulance attendant. Woody stayed as near as he was -allowed and saw a doctor bend over Randy. When the doctor stood up, -he didn't say anything. He just shook his head and got back into the -ambulance. - -Then Woody knew that Randy was dead. The Black Tiger had killed him. - - - - - 14 - - -In the weeks that followed Randy's death, nobody made any mention of -road racing or the Black Tiger around Worm's garage. There was a tacit -understanding that both topics should be ignored. Woody worked harder -than ever at his job and tried to put both subjects out of his mind. He -saw Rocky only at the funeral, and then she went back to San Diego to -live with an aunt. Woody did not know what happened to the Black Tiger. -And he hoped he would never hear of it or see it again. - -Worm made only one comment on the fatal accident that killed Randy. -"Yon Black Tiger is a killer car," he said to Woody. "I told Randy so -and tried to warn him against racing it. But he was no a man that ye -could warn." - -It was not, however, as easy to get away from road racing as Woody -hoped. When he went into a drugstore for a hamburger, he found himself -eying the road-racing magazines. When he bought a newspaper, the sports -pages with their columns on road racing had an irresistible fascination -for him. He did not want to look at them. Yet he found that he could -not refrain from doing so. Names seemed to leap out of the pages at -him--Tom Wisdom, Kurt Kreuger, Dave Kingston. It was strange how out of -several thousand printed words on a page, one word would stand out as -if it were printed in a different color. - -A week after Randy's death, Woody called up Mary Jane and asked her for -a date. She sounded neither cold nor very friendly on the phone, and -said she was doing nothing that night. Woody asked her out to dinner. -When he called for her, he began to realize how much he had missed her. -It seemed as if he had been only a portion of himself and now he was -made whole again. They spent a pleasant evening, not saying anything -about what was past or about any plans for the future. It seemed as if -the two of them just wanted to enjoy the present for the moment. - -Mary Jane seemed much more grown up to Woody that evening. She talked -neither of Somerset Maugham nor of boys she'd been out with while they -were quarreling. Woody felt peaceful while he was with her for the -first time in many weeks. When he went home, he slept well, and the -following day was whistling at his work and much more his old self. - -Worm noticed the change and was pleased by it. He was not a man to pry -into others' affairs, but he had been worried about Woody, toward whom -he adopted an attitude part father and part elder brother. - -For the next month things went smoothly in this fashion, and Woody -almost managed to forget about road racing and the unconquered fears -with which the whole subject filled him. - -Then one day the telephone rang, and when he answered it Rocky was on -the line. - -"Hi, Woody," she said. "How have you been?" - -"Pretty good," Woody replied. "How are things with you?" - -"Just fine now that--now that everything's settled. I called you up -because I just had some wonderful news. Guess what?" - -"What?" said Woody and he felt curiously ill at ease. - -"The Italian factory that made the Black Tiger had a representative -over here to look at Daddy's car. You know there are only three of them -in the world. They were worried about the two accidents"--she hurried -over the words--"because they gave the car a bad name. You know people -have been saying that the car's a killer, and nobody can be found to -drive it. Anyway, they've offered to pay the expenses of repairing -the Black Tiger, and they'll provide all the new parts needed and -everything if someone will race it again over here." - -"Oh," said Woody, trying to keep the dismay out of his voice. - -"Daddy really believed in that car," Rocky continued. "He said it was -the finest he'd ever seen in all the time he'd been driving. I thought -that since you'd worked with him on it that you'd like to know the news -right away." - -"Gee," said Woody. "I'm sure glad to hear it. Let me know if they find -a driver, huh? Maybe Tom Wisdom. He was a friend of your father's." - -"No," said Rocky. "I asked Tom. But he has the same opinion of the -Black Tiger as the others. He says it's a killer--too unorthodox a -design to be raced safely. Kurt Kreuger says the same. He won't touch -it. But I'll find somebody. Of course, there are lots of people who -would do it, but they haven't got the kind of driving flair that the -car needs. Anyway, I'll let you know if anything happens." - -She sounded a little disappointed. - -"Thanks," said Woody and hung up. - -"Who was that?" Worm asked when he put down the phone. - -"Rocky," replied Woody. "They're fixing up the Black Tiger, and they're -going to race her again." - -Worm gave him a queer look. "Come into the office," he said. "I've -something I want to tell ye. And I might as well tell ye noo." - -When they were inside Worm's tiny office and Worm had lit a cigarette, -he took a long hard drag at it, examined the glowing end, and addressed -himself to the smoldering cigarette rather than to Woody. - -"Ye may have been wondering," he said, "for ye are a noticing body, -how it was I came to know Randy so well mony years ago. And ye may -have heard some remarks pass between us that made nae sense tae ye at -the time. Ye'll recall, nae doot, that the first time he came tae the -garage here to ask me tae work on his pit crew, he said that that was -something I had tae face and I'd do better tae face it wi' me friends." - -Woody nodded but said nothing. - -"Weel," said Worm, "the fact o' the matter is that many years ago, -before ye were born likely, Randy and I were both racing drivers over -there in Europe. We raced against each other in the Tourists' Trophy -in Ireland and in the Le Mans in France and sometimes in road races -that took us frae the Channel ports tae the toe of Italy and back. -Clean across the Alps, mind ye, on narrow roads, twisting and curving, -through the passes, wi' snow all aroond, and sometimes ye couldna' see -tae the end o' yere headlight beam. - -"Ah weel, that was when I was young and foolish. Well, there came a -time when I was approached by a Swiss company tae race a new car for -them in the Le Mans. 'Twas a car ye probably never heard of, for they -don't make it any more. 'Twas called an Albinet." - -Woody shook his head. The name was completely strange to him. - -"Well, 'tis as I thought. Few these days have ever heard of the -Albinet, though at the time 'twas the wonder car of the year. Like that -Black Tiger noo. - -"No tae make too long a tale of it, I agreed tae drive the car, and -Randy was in the race too, driving a Bugatti if I remember right. - -"Now I don't know if you know anything about the Le Mans. 'Tis held -in the city of Le Mans in France, and the roads are blocked off tae -form the track. The race is laid down through the streets of the city, -and there's every kind of a turn and twist and hill and blind corner -and every kind of surface ye can think of to be negotiated. 'Tis a -twenty-four-hour race. There's cobbles in some parts and asphalt in -others and concrete and all the rest. And sometimes it's raining and -sometimes it's dry, so ye've never seen a race like the Le Mans over -here, and I hope ye never will. - -"I mind I was third on the eightieth lap. There was a Frenchman ahead -of me in a Hispano-Suiza and a German in the lead with a Mercedes-Benz. -Randy was on my tail, and we were going hell for leather down a cobbled -hill with a wall on one side all covered wi' sandbags and houses on the -other. At the bottom of the hill there was a sharp right turn and then -a sharp turn to the left and up another hill. - -"The trick was to change doon and brake hard, drift aroond the first -corner, regain traction on the second, and on your way. - -"The crowd was as thick as flies along the sandbags lining the wall as -I came roaring down the hill. I hit my brakes to change doon, and my -foot went tae the floor. The brakes had failed. I was doing a hundred -and ten down the cobbled hill when I passed the Italian and tried to -make the turn tae the right. The car swung around like an ice skater -and hit one of the sandbags. I got doon on the floor and Randy piled -intae me. There were five cars in that wreck, and three of the drivers -were killed. Four people who were watching from the sandbags died too. -Randy lost his foot. - -"After that, I swore I'd never race again. And I never have. Randy -tried tae get me back driving. He said if I didn't go back I'd be a -beaten man all me life. Well, maybe I am a beaten man. But to this day -I canna' look at a racing car without being filled wi' mortal fear. -When I agreed tae go wi' you and Steve tae the technical inspection, I -was trying tae get over some of that fear. I thought it might have left -me. But it hadn't. And when I agreed tae work in the pit wi' Randy, it -was for the same reason. - -"I'm sorry now I did. Randy would hae been killed, nae doot. But -I'd have had no part in it." He paused and flicked the butt of his -cigarette deftly into a bucket of water. - -"Ye'll be wondering why I'm telling ye all this, nae doot," he said. -"Weel, it's on account of yon Black Tiger. Mark my words, they'll no -find any racing driver wi' any experience that'll undertake tae handle -her. Yon car's a killer as I said before. I'm thinking that they'll be -asking you. Ye drive well. I've watched ye. Ye drive like I used tae -drive when I was racing. I've looked at ye going roond the track and -seen meself twenty years ago. - -"But dinna make the mistake I made--Randy too. Dinna' go on wi' yere -driving until ye've killed seven people just because ye wanted tae -drive a new car first past the finish line. - -"I'll never forget those people, laddie. Never. And I've a horror of -racing now that won't leave me until I've drawn my last breath." - -Woody now understood fully Worm's strange reaction to the Black Tiger -and his reluctance to be associated with road racing in any way. But -there was something else he wanted to know. He remembered how Randy, -over dinner, had told him that road racing condensed all the challenges -of life into a few minutes. He recalled Randy's saying that all drivers -were scared but if a man gave way to fear he would be beaten for the -rest of his life. - -"Tell me, Worm," he said. "Did you quit racing because of the -accident--because of the people you killed though it was not your -fault? Or did you quit because you were scared of getting killed -yourself? Because you didn't want to take any more chances." - -"'Twas the people," said Worm, slowly. - -"But they knew the risk they were taking when they came to watch the -race," Woody persisted. "They knew a car might get out of control. Yet -they came and sat on top of the sandbags." - -Worm made no comment on this for a while. He got up moodily from his -seat and looked out of the window. "Randy told me that mony a time," -he said. "If I face the matter squarely, I quit because I was afraid." -The sentence was uttered in almost a whisper. - -"I've been afraid ever since," said Worm. Woody felt a deep compassion -for him. - - - - - 15 - - -Worm's forecast that Woody would be asked to drive the Black Tiger was -not long in coming true. A week after her telephone call, Rocky dropped -in to see him. She drove into the garage in her MG, and although Worm -was delighted to see the daughter of his old friend, it was plain that -he was worried too. - -"Mind what I told ye," he said privately to Woody. "Dinna' let her talk -ye into driving yon Black Tiger. It's nae worth the risk." - -Woody and Rocky went to dinner and then for a drive and a talk. For -a while nothing was said about the Black Tiger, though Woody knew -very well that that was the object of the visit. Rocky was apparently -waiting for Woody to bring up the subject, and he was determined that -he wouldn't. - -Eventually she brought it up herself. - -"The Black Tiger is being completely overhauled and repaired," she -said. "It will be ready to race again soon. The factory sent a man over -to supervise the work. They installed a completely new brake system. -The factory man said the car had been dropped on the way over, and that -was why the steering knuckle broke and also why the brakes went out. -There was just the tiniest rupture in the master cylinder, but with the -constant braking during two races the rupture widened and the fluid -drained out." - -"Gee, I'm glad to hear they found the trouble and the car is being -fixed," Woody said. - -"We haven't been able to get a driver," Rocky continued. "I'd drive it -myself, but it wouldn't be the same thing. They have special races for -women, as you know, and to prove its worth the Black Tiger has to be -driven in a man's race." - -Woody made no reply to this other than to grunt. - -"It's the old trouble," Rocky went on. "The car has got the reputation -of being a killer. Nobody wants to risk driving it because it's so new. -But it isn't a killer at all. I believe what Randy used to say. No cars -are killers. New ones may have bugs in them that have to be found out. -But that's been true of every car ever designed. Racing finds out the -troubles and provides better and safer cars for people to drive. - -"Lots of safety features on automobiles today were developed out of -experience gained in road racing," she continued. "Four-wheel brakes -are one of them. So are rear-vision mirrors and better tires. More -people are driving with safety belts on long trips, and that's saving -a lot of lives. In the early days of racing, Daddy told me, fly-wheels -used to explode and kill drivers. But who ever heard of a flywheel -exploding these days? Racing drivers showed how to make better ones. -Every time there's an accident on a track, people say that road -racing should be banned or that a particular car is a killer. But the -automobile industry would not be where it is today if it wasn't for -road racing." - -Still Woody said nothing. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his -stomach because he knew what was coming. The palms of his hands -felt moist, and he could feel his heart beating faster. He tried to -temporize. - -"Why was Randy so interested in the Black Tiger?" he asked. - -"Because he said it was way ahead of any other racing car yet -designed," Rocky replied. "The factory is planning to put out a small -family car based on the Black Tiger engine. It would give about fifty -miles to a gallon of gas, could be driven in any climate because the -engine is air-cooled. That means no radiator to overheat in summer or -freeze in winter. And it would sell for less than a thousand dollars. -But all that depends on the Black Tiger being shown to be an efficient -engine and chassis design. - -"Daddy never said anything to me about it. But I found out through his -will that he had put all his savings into the project. He believed -in the Black Tiger that much. He used to say he'd spent all his life -looking for a perfect automobile and had found it in the Black Tiger. -Now his life's work will be wrecked unless we can find someone to drive -the Tiger." She looked across at Woody, hesitated, and then said. - -"Daddy was very fond of you. He told me that you'd make a great racing -driver someday. He said you had a natural flair for it, and the sort of -courage that it takes. Woody, I hate to ask you, knowing the reputation -the Black Tiger has. I'm only asking because so much of Randy's hopes -were tied up in the car. Will you race it--not for me but for him? For -all he did for automobile racing and design?" - -Woody had his answer ready, but he couldn't get it out. It seemed -to him that Randy was nearby and hanging on his answer. He wanted to -say no. He wanted to say that he, too, believed the Black Tiger was a -man-killer. He wanted to break down and confess that he was scared to -death every time he raced a car and that fear, heavy as a shroud, clung -to him through every moment of a race. But he could not get the words -out of his mouth. - -"I'll have to think about it, Rocky," he said feebly. - -Rocky brightened immediately. "Woody," she exclaimed, "you're -wonderful." And she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. - -"I haven't said yes," Woody said hurriedly. - -"I didn't expect you to answer right away," replied Rocky. "I know you -have to talk to your mother and father. But if you explain everything -to them, I know they will agree." - -"Worm warned me not to race the Tiger," Woody said. Rocky frowned. - -"Did he tell you about himself yet?" she asked. - -"Yes." - -"Daddy always felt bad about Worm," Rocky went on, slowly. "He believed -up to the last that all Worm had to do was turn around and face his -fear and he would be happy again. He's not happy now, you know. That's -why Daddy got him in his pit crew and brought the Black Tiger to his -garage for tuning. It wasn't really that he couldn't get the tuning -done anywhere else. He thought if he could get Worm back into racing, -he would get over his fears. Daddy was always doing things like that -for people without their knowing it. He used to say that fear was just -a continuing sense of shock. It could be cured, he thought, if faced." - -Rocky didn't know how deeply these words affected Woody. He felt that -Randy was talking to him; that Randy knew the struggle in his mind and -was trying to sort it out for him. He could almost hear the bright, -gallant voice, not blaming him but understanding and trying to help him -get over his own fears. - -"When do you think you'll know whether you can drive the Tiger?" Rocky -asked. - -"Oh, in about a week," Woody replied. - -"Whatever your answer," Rocky said, "I'll always be grateful to you. -The others just said no. You at least are willing." - -That evening Woody bitterly regretted that he also had not given a -flat no to Rocky's request. If he had done so, it would be settled and -he would have been saved a lot of mental and emotional turmoil. When -he got home he found his father was out of town on business and would -not be back for two or three days. Woody would have liked to talk to -his father about driving the Black Tiger in the hope that he would be -forbidden to race. That would solve the matter by putting the blame for -the decision on someone else. Woody didn't feel exactly comfortable at -that thought but was looking for a way to escape making the decision -himself. - -It was no good talking to Worm. Worm would only insist that he refuse -to drive the Black Tiger. And Worm was really in the same position in -regard to racing as himself. If Tom Wisdom or any of the other drivers -he'd met had been around, he would have consulted them for their views. -But Woody didn't know where they lived and had no way of finding out. - -In the end, desperate for someone to talk his problem over with, Woody -took it to Mary Jane. He didn't really think she could help him with -it. He already knew her views on road racing. But at least she was -someone to talk to. He was too ashamed to unburden himself to Steve. - -To his surprise, Mary Jane's reaction was quite different from what he -had expected. He told her everything, not sparing his own feelings in -any way. Though he blushed while doing so, he confessed that he was -scared of racing and had many times missed chances on the track through -sheer fear. He said he had been afraid even to talk of his fear and -now was in the predicament of being asked to drive the Black Tiger. He -confessed that he was mortally afraid of doing it and also afraid of -refusing, both because of his reputation and what it might do to his -morale. - -Mary Jane didn't interrupt once while he was talking. When he had -finished, she said: - -"Woody Hartford, you're the most mixed-up person I ever met. There's -nothing for you to do but drive the Black Tiger. I'm surprised you -can't see that yourself." - -"What?" cried Woody, amazed. - -"Look," Mary Jane continued. "You know how I hated the way you were -always spending time and money on Cindy Lou. I still don't see that -it's important for one driver to prove he can go faster than another. -And I don't see that it's important for people to keep building faster -cars. If you were going to drive the Black Tiger just to show that it -would go faster than those Ferraris or what-nots, I'd tell you not to -be so silly. - -"But that's no longer the reason. The reason now is to show that you've -got the courage to drive the car even though you're afraid of it. -That's a very important reason. It's much more important than all that -stuff about developing safer cars and so on. - -"You've just got to drive the Black Tiger. That's all there is to it. -Otherwise you won't be Woody Hartford any more. And the person I'm -interested in is Woody Hartford." - -Woody was stunned. - -"You really mean you think I should drive it?" he asked. - -"Certainly. I wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you if you -didn't. If I was afraid of it, I'd drive it. You don't have to win. All -you've got to do is try to win and show that you're prepared to take -the same chances that other drivers in the race accept. - -"I used to say that all your interest in racing and racing cars was -juvenile. So it was. All you were interested in then was the speed and -the roar of the engines and the glamour. But now it isn't juvenile at -all. You're growing up. If you race the Black Tiger, it will show that -you've grown up enough to be called a man. - -"And," Mary Jane concluded, "when I get married, I want it to be to a -_man_, even if he does have to spend the rest of his life in greasy -overalls." - - - - - 16 - - -The biggest opposition to Woody's driving the Black Tiger came from -Worm. Woody had thought that both his mother and father would be dead -set against it. They did not, indeed, welcome the prospect. Woody -decided to tell his father about it when they were alone and again to -explain all his reasons fully. When he had finished Mr. Hartford said, -"Woody, is this what has been on your mind all the time?" - -"More or less," Woody replied. - -"I see why you didn't feel you could discuss it with me. In any case, -discussion is rather futile. There are some things people just have to -decide by themselves and this is one of them. I don't pretend that I -like the idea of your driving that car. I wish there was some honorable -way out of it. But there isn't. You'd better let me tell your mother, -though. I think I can explain the situation better than you. - -"This is where being a parent is really tough," he added with a faint -smile. "My whole instinct is to forbid you to race--to protect you from -danger. But I know that would be the wrong thing to do. Son, promise -me that.... Well, I was going to say promise me that you won't take -any unnecessary chances. But that would be silly. Promise me that if -the car shows any serious defects before the race, you will have sense -enough to realize that you don't have to go through with this." - -"I promise," said Woody. "The car will be in perfect mechanical -condition. Otherwise the deal will be off. I'll go over it myself, and -I'll get Worm to help me." - -Worm was furious when Woody told him. His face went white, and for a -while he was unable to say anything. When he did he called Woody a fool -and a lunatic and said he wouldn't have anything to do with the Black -Tiger and would not help Woody in any way. - -"I'll not be a party tae ye killing yere foolish self," he stormed. - -This was a heavy blow. Woody didn't really know enough about the -mechanics of racing cars to check the Tiger over thoroughly. He waited -for Worm to calm down and then decided to tackle him again. - -"Worm," he said, "you don't understand about me and the Black Tiger. -I'd like to explain to you." - -"There's nae explanation for a mon deciding tae drive a car that's -only been in two races and has had an accident each time, other than -lunacy," Worm snapped. - -"Well, maybe it is lunacy," replied Woody. "But Dad doesn't seem to -think so. And neither does Mary Jane." - -"Ye mean tae tell me yer father is going tae let ye drive yon -man-killer?" - -"Yes," said Woody. "Because I explained the reasons to him." - -"And what might be yere reasons?" Worm demanded. - -"There's only one! I'm afraid. I'm afraid to drive any racing car. I -became afraid the first race I was in when I nearly hit a telephone -pole, and I've been scared ever since. I was even more scared after the -Black Tiger--after Randy was killed in the Black Tiger. And the only -way for me to get my courage back is to drive the car in a race. That's -all." - -When he had finished, Worm's long pale face was a study. He opened his -mouth to say something and then snapped it shut without uttering a -word. He stared at Woody in silence for several seconds and then walked -out of the office where the conversation had taken place. He stayed -away for several minutes, just standing outside the garage with his -thin hands on his hips and staring at his feet. Then he fished for a -cigarette, lit it, took a puff on it, threw it away, and came back into -the office. - -"Gie me yere hand, laddie," he said. "I'm ashamed of meself. Ye've -got more guts than I have, for ye're doing the thing I should have -done meself fifteen years ago. If I'd driven in just one more race -after that accident, I'd have been a happier mon today. Instead, I've -been fifteen years wi' a nightmare. Ah, well. 'Tis never too late tae -mend, they say. I'm wi' ye in this. I'll go over yon Black Tiger wi' -a fine-tooth comb and a magnet. I'll do more than that. I'll take it -out on the desert roads wi' ye and test it meself. I'll corner it and -brake it and pour the coal tae it until I've driven oot any bugs there -are in it meself, or me name is not William Orville Randolph McNess of -Aberdeen. - -"Have ye told yon Rocky that ye'll race the car?" - -"Not yet," said Woody. "She's in San Diego." - -"Weel, get on the phone and tell her noo. Dinna' worry aboot the -charges. I'll stand them meself. The Hieland Scots, ye understand, are -a generous race of people, and 'tis one of the main faults in them." - -When Woody in the next few minutes called Rocky to say he'd drive the -Black Tiger for her, she was jubilant. She said she'd bring the car -up the very next day so that there would be ample time to check it and -test it before the Pebble Beach race, which was the event in which it -would be entered. - -It was not long before the news that the Tiger was to be raced again -reached the sports columns. And Woody found himself a combination of -hero and lunatic over night. One Los Angeles evening paper devoted -half a page to an article and pictures of the Black Tiger. A reporter -interviewed Woody for the story, and the gist of the article was that -Woody was prepared to stake his life to show the car was the fastest -and safest racing machine ever to come into the country. - -Other columnists dredged up stories of other "wonder cars" that had -been wrecked and scrapped as unpractical. Woody was asked to lecture -at the local high school on racing and road safety and was voted by -the Junior Chamber of Commerce as the young citizen most likely to -succeed. Some papers tried to draw a likeness between him and some of -the old-time racing greats like Barney Oldfield, and all in all, he got -more publicity than he ever would have thought likely in his entire -life. - -Worm was as good as his word both in checking and testing the car. -He closed down his garage for a week to devote his time to the Black -Tiger. He crawled all over it, with Davie's _Problems and Principles of -Internal Combustion Engines_ open on the workbench for ready reference. -And then, one Saturday, he and Woody drove the Black Tiger out to a -deserted piece of highway in the Mojave desert to give it a thorough -road test. - -The piece of road selected was an old highway now replaced by a modern -four-lane thoroughfare. Because it was old, and therefore full of -turns and twists, it was ideal for the purpose, and the Highway Patrol -gave permission for the tests to be held. - -The Highway Patrol also co-operated in not saying anything about the -tests, so Woody and Worm had the strip of road, three miles long, -to themselves. They worked out a route, partially on the disused -road, partially across a desert track, so they had a rough circle to -represent a race track. - -"I'll put her through ten laps, laddie, just tae see how she handles," -Worm said. "You stay here and time me wi' the stop watch. It's -aboot three miles aroond, which is average for race tracks here in -California." - -Woody nodded, and Worm got into the driver's seat. His white face -seemed even whiter, but his thin hands were quite steady as he buckled -on his safety belt. Then he put on his crash helmet and adjusted the -goggles over his eyes. He squirmed around in the seat, feeling the -controls with his feet. He switched on the ignition and fired the Black -Tiger up. Woody caught a glimpse of his eyes behind the goggles. They -seemed big, and there was a dullness that suggested fear. Worm turned -his head slowly and looked full at him. Then he gave Woody a wink, made -monstrous by the glass shield of the goggles, took a deep breath, and -let out the clutch. - -The Black Tiger roared into life and shot down the old asphalt road. -Woody grinned. It had been a bigger struggle for Worm, he knew, to -drive the Black Tiger, than it would be for him. And Worm had made it. - -Worm's first two laps were anything but impressive. He seemed to be -driving with such extreme caution that it would not have been difficult -to keep up with him in a much less powerful car. But when Worm passed -Woody for the third time, he took one hand off the steering wheel, -waved, and hit the accelerator. It seemed to Woody as if the Black -Tiger was melting in the sun, it disappeared from view so fast. There -was a corner about two hundred yards from the starting place, and Worm -took this without even skidding his wheels. He reappeared over the top -of a hill and plunged down again, the Tiger roaring its enjoyment of -the game. As he flashed by again, Woody saw that Worm was driving like -Randy used to. He was sitting well back in his seat, almost lolling -there. His hands held the steering wheel in a light grip. And there was -a smile on his thin face. - -Worm did more than ten laps. It was fifteen before he stopped the Black -Tiger, unfastened his safety belt, and climbed out of the seat. - -"How did I do?" he asked. - -"Gee," said Woody, "I was so nervous about you that I forgot to use the -stop watch." - -"Nervous about me!" exclaimed Worm. "Why, laddie, I was driving cars -wi' twice the horsepower of yon Black Tiger before ye were born." But -he gave Woody another of his rare winks, and his face was beaming. He -looked, in fact, quite young again. - -It was now Woody's turn, and he got behind the wheel and fastened his -safety belt. "There's nothing wrong wi' her that I can find," said -Worm. "She corners better than any car I've ever handled. The main -thing is tae get the feel of her. Take her aroond slowly at first till -ye know how fast she turns when ye pull the wheel over. Change doon and -try tae make her slide on corners. Find oot when she breaks out of a -slide. Take it easy at first. We've got all day. Make her do what you -want her tae do--not what she wants tae do. That's the whole secret of -driving." - -Woody looked along the low slim hood in front of him and at the -dashboard with its telltale dials. Tachometer. Speedometer. -Oil-pressure gauge. Water-temperature gauge. Gas gauge. Each was a -separate dial. He slipped the gearshift into low and started off. - -His confidence had been restored to some extent by watching Worm, but -he took the first two laps slowly, studying the reactions of the car. -She seemed all power and eagerness. Corners taken at sixty-five miles -an hour on the asphalt didn't bother her. She slipped smoothly in and -out of gear but seemed to be constantly straining to go faster. - -On the fourth lap of the makeshift course, Woody decided to let the -Tiger go all out. He flashed passed Worm, his engine roaring, changed -down at the first corner at the bottom of a dip, was around and over -the top of a small hill before he realized it, and headed down a -quarter mile of straight at the end of which was a right-angle bend -onto the desert strip. Woody hit his brakes, changed down again for the -bend, then stamped hard on the accelerator. The Black Tiger screamed -off the asphalt onto the dirt strip of the desert, broadsided for a -second, righted herself, and was off again. - -Five laps, and Woody felt that he knew the car. He also felt more sure -of himself. There were one or two moments when his old panic threatened -to return. But he managed to fight it down. He did well for eight laps -going full bore around the course. The Black Tiger was certainly all -that Randy had ever said of it. Acceleration in all four gears was -instant and powerful. She cornered without any fuss. He never had to -fight to get her under control after a full power drift around a bend. -One touch of his foot on the accelerator and she came out straight as -an arrow. - -And yet Woody was conscious of being tense all the time. He couldn't -lean back in the seat relaxed like Randy and Worm and become, as they -did, part of the engine. There was a tiny spark of uneasiness and -distrust in the bottom of his mind all the time. - -He was waiting, he knew, for something to go wrong; for the steering -to go out or a tire to blow. He couldn't quite trust the Black -Tiger--couldn't quite shake out of his mind the thought that it was -waiting to spring some unsuspected trap upon him. - -When he was through with the trial runs, Worm said, "Weel, laddie, how -did she handle?" - -"Fine," said Woody. "Fine. I just hope she'll hold together." - -They both looked at the sleek black lines of the car. Even in the hot -desert sun they seemed menacing. - - - - - 17 - - -Woody had a bad headache and a strong suspicion that the meager -breakfast he had eaten that morning was not going to stay with him very -long. He wished he could go away somewhere out of the bright, merciless -sunlight and be quietly sick all by himself. It occurred to him that if -there was just half a chance of getting away with it, he'd sneak off -into the crowd on the other side of the snow fence and disappear among -them. But that was impossible. Someone would spot him and he would be -brought back again for the sacrifice. - -For that's exactly what he felt like--a sacrifice that was about to be -offered to a god called the Black Tiger for the edification of a lot of -worshipers who called themselves sports-car fans. - -Woody was sitting on the grass on one side of the starting area of -the Pebble Beach racecourse. Across the track from him was a row of -cars facing outward as if they were in a parking lot. Among them was -the Black Tiger. They all seemed to be grinning malevolently. The -Black Tiger was sixth in line, and there were twenty-two cars in all -drawn up for the Le Mans start of the fifth event. That was the race -to which he was committed--the race in which he was to be given his -chance to recover and demonstrate his courage; the race in which he was -to prove that the Black Tiger was, despite its record of accidents, a -first-class racing machine. - -Woody was glad of one thing. Mary Jane wasn't nearby, nor were his -father and mother, nor Rocky, Steve, nor Worm. His mother and dad -were somewhere in the mass of spectators with Mary Jane. Rocky, -Steve, and Worm were in the pit area forming his pit crew. He was -glad they weren't with him, because in their presence he had to keep -up a pretense of confidence. And right at that moment he hadn't a -hairsbreadth of confidence in his whole body. - -It had been tough trying to hide his fears all morning while four other -races were run. He had become so nervous with everybody wishing him -well and fussing over the car that he could hardly do a simple little -thing like adjust his racing mirrors to get a clear view of his rear -and two rear fenders. - -Worm, he was sure, had noticed that he was nervous. But Worm hadn't -said anything, and Woody was glad. Worm had just busied himself -checking the ignition and the spark-plug gaps and taping the headlights. - -When Rocky had asked him how he felt, he'd replied, in a voice that -didn't sound like his own at all, that he felt fine. - -Then Rocky had suggested that he look over the map of the track. But -try as he would to memorize it, none of the details would stay with -him. He told himself that it didn't matter anyway. He'd had enough -racing experience to know that what the track looked like on paper -wasn't at all what it was like when you drove over it. Turns that -seemed like slow curves turned out to be pretty sharp. And there was no -indication of whether they were banked or not. - -Furthermore, the map of the track didn't have anything to say about -road surfaces. It didn't say anything about trees, and the Pebble -Beach track was studded with trees. There were a lot of hills on it -too, and most of the corners leaped up suddenly at you from behind -a clump of trees or beyond the brow of a hill. That much he learned -from talking to the other drivers. It was, they all agreed, the -most difficult track in Southern California. Or as they put it--the -sportiest. - -Tom Wisdom was sitting beside Woody in the sun, looking at his driving -boots. He had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, but it -had gone out. - -"Got a match?" he said, turning to Woody. - -Woody said he hadn't without even looking through his pockets. He -wished he hadn't been asked. He just wanted to be left alone right at -the present moment. - -"Feeling a little shaky?" Tom asked. His voice was friendly, and he -smiled in a kindly way as he put the question. - -Woody decided to abandon all his pretenses. "I sure am," he said. "If I -could get the heck out of here and disappear for five years into China, -I would." - -Tom laughed. "You wouldn't be alone," he said. "Look at Kurt over -there." Kurt Kreuger was squatted on his heels carefully taking a -cigarette to pieces. Even at a distance of several yards, Woody could -see that his hands were far from steady. - -"Kurt always tears paper when he's keyed up," Tom said. "I smoke -cigarettes that have gone out." He took the dead cigarette from between -his lips, examined it with a smile, and flicked it onto the track. - -"We've three or four minutes yet," he said. "Did you look over the -track?" Woody nodded. - -"It's pretty rough," Tom continued. "But remember, it's just as rough -for the other boys as it is for you. There isn't much I can tell you -at this point that would do any good. But remember, when you jump into -your car, fasten your safety belt. Don't take off without doing that." -He lapsed into silence, got out another cigarette, found an old match -folder with one last match, took a puff or two, and looked down toward -the starter. - -For the next two minutes it seemed to Woody everything around became -very quiet. The row of cars on the opposite side of the track looked as -grim as gladiators about to enter an arena. Woody eyed the Black Tiger, -and in that moment he hated her. She seemed both impersonal and cruel -to him. A cricket started a shrill chirruping in the grass behind him, -and he experienced a sudden flush of irritation at the sound. The sun -beat down bright and merciless on the asphalt before him. The starter -stood talking to two other men. He seemed cheerful and untroubled, and -Woody conceived an enormous dislike of him. Why didn't he just drop his -flag and get it over with? Why stand around there chewing the fat when -everybody was sitting with his nerves on edge? - -The loud-speaker blared suddenly. "One minute to go," the announcer -said. "I'll count out the seconds. Fifty-five. Fifty. Forty-five...." - -It's coming now, Woody said to himself. Just a few seconds more. He -felt suddenly panicky, as if he were paralyzed and wouldn't be able to -run to his car. Kurt Kreuger was still shredding a cigarette. - -"Twenty-five. Twenty. Fifteen," said the announcer. Suddenly it was -time. The big green flag in the starter's hand came down, and Woody -found himself sprinting on wobbly knees over to the Black Tiger. He -was hardly in the seat before a Jag beside him started with a roar -and shot off down the track. He saw Tom Wisdom and Kurt Kreuger take -off while he was still fumbling with his safety belt. Two more cars -roared by, and at last he got the belt fastened. He switched on the -ignition, pressed the starter button, let out the clutch, and roared -away himself. His hands and arms were trembling violently. He wanted to -be sick, and he could hardly see. He denounced himself as a fool for -having ever got into the race. But there was no getting out of it now. -He couldn't call into the pits. He couldn't get out of the car. He had -to go on. - -The first lap Woody did in a kind of nightmare. Turns appeared -unexpectedly before him, and he took them, fighting down a rising -panic. Cars roared by, sometimes on one side and sometimes on the -other, and he let them go. His only concern was to get around as many -times as was necessary and then get out of the Black Tiger and leave it -and never see it again. - -Actually, in the first lap, he lost only two places. In the starting -line-up he had been sixth. At the end of the first lap, he was eighth. -He caught a glimpse of Worm as he passed by the start-finish line after -the first lap. Worm was holding up a blackboard with the figure 8 upon -it. Woody was surprised. He had been sure more cars than that were -ahead of him. The news served to steady him a little. He pushed down -on the accelerator and concentrated on a Mercedes ahead. It was green -and had a big twelve on the back. He could scarcely see the top of the -driver's helmet, and he did not know who he was. But he decided he -would try to pass. - -The distance between the two cars diminished slightly. Woody pressed -the accelerator down farther. The Black Tiger's note changed to a -piercing scream. Woody could feel the car pick up speed, and the -Mercedes seemed to be drawn toward him. Then he saw the tail light -flash red and knew the driver was braking for a corner. Woody touched -his brakes also and in the same moment changed down. - -Something inside of him said, "Now," and the voice sounded like -Randy's. Woody stomped on the accelerator and pulled over to the right. -He went by the Mercedes in a flash and found a sharp corner ahead. He -braked again, changed down to second, and hit the accelerator once -more. The rear end of the Black Tiger slewed around as he turned the -steering wheel. But she straightened out like a champion and was off -down the straightaway in a second. In his rear-vision mirror Woody -caught a glimpse of the Mercedes he had just passed. It was gaining on -him. Ahead was a sharp hill, and he could not remember what was beyond. -He left the car in second and accelerated. The Black Tiger roared, -breasted the top of the hill, and there ahead were three cars in a -huddle, braking for what must be a sharp bend. - -On either side of the track, perhaps ten feet from the shoulder, were -pine trees, with barricades of hay bales among them. There was no room -to get through the cars ahead, and the Mercedes was now pressing on his -tail. Woody braked and skittered around the corner on the heels of the -three cars. Then he saw, just for a second, a gap in them. It was about -a foot wider than the Black Tiger. No more. - -"Here goes," Woody said to himself and opened the throttle. The effect -was as if a jet engine had been added to the Black Tiger's power plant. -She literally leaped through the gap. There was a slight bump, and he -knew that he had touched the rear fender of one of the cars. But other -than that he got away clear. The Mercedes that had been challenging him -was left in the melee of cars he had just passed. - -Ahead now the road was straight but ran over a series of hills. Woody -recalled that stretch and knew that there was perhaps three-quarters of -a mile of it with a series of S-bends, followed by a hairpin at the end. - -"Give her the gun," the voice inside him said again. It was still -Randy's voice. Woody opened the throttle, his foot pressed to the floor -board, and the Black Tiger flung down the track. Woody looked at his -speedometer. One hundred and ten, one hundred and twenty, one hundred -and thirty. He saw a Jag ahead and flashed past so close he could, -for a second, feel the warmth of the other's exhaust. He was doing a -hundred and forty plus when he entered the S-bends and braked down. - -On the first bend, the Black Tiger nearly turned over. She seemed to -crouch over on her side, and Woody's foot slipped off the accelerator. -But then she recovered, veered a little under his unsteady hands at the -wheel, and shot off for the next bend. Woody decided to straighten that -one out. He would cut the corners on it and take the risk that there -might be a car ahead hidden from him. There wasn't a car ahead, but on -the third of the S-bends, which lay just over the top of a hill, there -was one right in the spot he was aiming at. - -Without knowing quite why he did it, Woody changed down to third and, -reacting instinctively, pulled the Black Tiger over and hit the gas. -She went by the car--a Jag--in a cloud of dust. - -Then came the hairpin. If Woody had not changed down on the last S-bend -he would certainly never have made the corner. As it was he had to hit -his brakes until all four wheels screamed their protest. But he managed -to claw around the hairpin. - -The next time he passed the start-finish line he saw Worm again for a -brief flash holding up the blackboard. On it was a big figure 4. - -For the next four laps Woody held his position, neither passing anybody -nor being passed. But he became more familiar with the track. Bends no -longer appeared unexpectedly before him. He found the reason why he had -nearly turned over on the one S-bend before the hairpin. It was banked -in the wrong direction so that the weight of a car cornering on it was -thrown downhill. - -This piece of knowledge tucked into his mind he determined to put to -good use if he could get within passing distance of the Ferrari ahead. -If he could get on the near side of the Ferrari on that S-bend, the -driver would either have to let him by or run the risk of turning over -in making the corner. - -It took him two laps to get into position for the try. All the while -he studied the driver's tactics. He belonged to the close-cornering -school. He went into all his bends as near to the inside as he could, -and only skidded away from that position when he was most of the way -around. If he did that on the first S-bend, he wouldn't be able to do -it on the second, for he would have skidded wide, Woody told himself. -That would give him an opportunity to take over the inside position and -pass. - -The plan worked to perfection. The driver of the Ferrari took the first -S tight in against the corner and went wide for the second. Woody -saw his braking lights flash and a gap just big enough for him to -get through on the inside of the track. It would be there for only a -second. But Woody jammed his foot down hard on the accelerator and shot -through. When he passed Worm again, the figure on the blackboard was 3. - -Now a curious reaction set in. Woody had started the race in panic and -had somehow fought that down, becoming too absorbed in the driving to -think of anything else. But now he thought of Randy. In his two races, -Randy had always done well until he got to second place. Then the Black -Tiger had gone out of control. - -His fears and distrust of the car, which had for a while left him, -began to return, though he fought against them. He knew who was -ahead--Kurt Kreuger in his Jag and Tom Wisdom in his Ferrari. They -were the same two that Randy had been killed trying to pass. Woody's -heart started to pound, and unconsciously he took his foot off the -accelerator. The Black Tiger seemed to slump as if it had hit a patch -of thick glue, there was a loud roar, and the Ferrari, which he had -been at such pains to pass, buzzed by him. He was back to fourth place -again. - -A Mercedes and a Cad-Allard were coming up behind him. Only the fact -that they had to slow down for the corner ahead prevented their passing -him. Woody felt his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The -muscles of his legs seemed to go rigid, and he felt he had no control -over his feet. - -Somehow he got around the corner, and somehow he kept his foot down on -the accelerator when he hit the straightaway, but his heart was not in -it. He was afraid again, and this time he knew the fear was going to -remain. He recalled how he had nearly turned over on the S-bend and -how he had skidded broadside around one corner, and the spirit went out -of him. The Jag passed him easily and so did the Mercedes, the driver -flashing him a puzzled look as he went by. - -Then Randy said something to him--or so it seemed. He said, "Relax. -Lean back. You can't drive all crouched over the wheel." Woody leaned -back against the seat. The feel of it on the back of his shoulders gave -him comfort. - -"You passed those boys before," said Randy's voice. "You can do it -again. Try it on the S-bends. Go full bore and trust to luck. You're -driving a better car than you think." - -The S-bends were ahead, and the three cars were just entering them. -Woody looked at his speedometer. A hundred and twenty-five. He wanted -to brake, then change down, and take the bends more slowly. Instead, he -pressed the accelerator and flung into the first bend as if it wasn't -there. - -He hardly saw the Mercedes as he went by, taking it on the outside. He -was on the inside position on the second bend--the one that was banked -the wrong way. The Jag ahead had flung wide and was trying hard to get -into position. There was a sharp jolt as Woody streaked past it. But -he didn't bother even to look in his rear-vision mirror. He was fourth -again. There were three cars ahead, and he knew now that he could pass -them. Or rather he knew that he wouldn't hold back from trying. He -couldn't explain why it was that his panic had left. It was there in -full force a few minutes ago, and now there was not a vestige of it. -Instead he was leaning back against the seat. His hands and legs were -steady. His brain was clear, and his emotions were under control. His -only desire was to go faster and drive better. - -"I think I'm going to make it, Randy," he said. - -"Never doubted it for a moment," was the reply. - -By the fifteenth lap Woody had won back to third position again. Kurt -had pulled ahead of Tom Wisdom. Woody had a warm feeling for the two -of them. He experienced a warm feeling, too, for the Black Tiger. The -roar of her engine, which before had frightened him, now made his -heart sing. He loved the way she handled and her enormous gallantry on -corners. - -He knew that she had it in her to win the race, and he was ashamed that -he had penalized her with his own fears. - -The last two laps were, for everybody, the most exciting of the race. -On the straightaway approaching the hairpin, Woody drew wheel to wheel -with Tom Wisdom who looked briefly at him and winked. But Tom wasn't -giving anything. He hugged the corner tight--so tight that Woody had to -follow him around, for it was too sharp to take wide. Woody drew ahead -briefly approaching the right-angle bend after the start-finish line. -But he was not sufficiently ahead to pull over and crowd Tom behind -him. They took the corner wheel to wheel, but since Woody was on the -outside, Tom was slightly ahead when they got around it. Woody had -only one more chance to pass--on the S-bends where he had made most of -his conquests. But Tom knew those S-bends even better than Woody did. -He never gave the Black Tiger a chance. And when the checkered finish -flag fluttered down before them, it was Kurt Kreuger first, Tom Wisdom -second, and Woody Hartford third. - -Rocky was first to greet him when he returned to the pit. "You were -wonderful," she said. "Wonderful. Daddy always said you'd make a great -driver." And she flung her arms around him and gave him a kiss. - -Worm somehow got hold of Woody's hand and kept pumping it up and down. - -"I knew what was happening, laddie," he said. "For my money, ye won the -race." - -When he got free of Rocky and Worm it was to find Mary Jane standing -by the car. She didn't say anything. She just smiled and looked very -proud. - - - - - 18 - - -That night a victory dinner was held at a hotel in Monterey where the -dining room had been taken over for the occasion. Woody, Mary Jane, -Worm, Rocky, Steve, and Woody's parents attended. It was something of a -battle to get into the hotel, for all the drivers who had participated -in the race were there. There were perhaps three hundred cars crowded -into the parking lot and lining the adjoining streets. The city, in -fact, became a racing center for the night, and radio and television -men were covering the event in full force. - -Tom Wisdom and Kurt Kreuger both grabbed hold of Woody as he entered -the hotel lobby. - -"You're coming with us," they said, and they dragged him off to a -seat at the head table. The Mayor presided at the banquet, and there -were officials of the state government and a number of sports-car -organizations. Woody couldn't remember how many people he was -introduced to by Tom Wisdom, who had taken him under his wing. - -"You drove the finest race I've seen in a long time," Tom said. "Kurt -and I are both agreed on that. Right before the start, to be honest, -I didn't know whether you were going to make it. But you came through -like a veteran. You had me plenty worried those last few laps." - -"I had the willies all right," Woody confessed. - -"Say, Kurt," said Tom. "What were you doing right before the race -tearing up all those cigarettes?" - -"Me?" said Kurt surprised. "I wasn't tearing up any cigarettes, was I?" - -"You sure were." - -"Well, if I was, I didn't know about it. But right before the start I'd -made up my mind that this was the last race I was ever going to drive -in. That's how I felt." - -"How do you feel now?" - -"Right now," said Kurt, "I think that was the silliest decision I ever -made in my life." - -The Mayor presented Kurt with the trophy for first place--a cup of -such proportions that Worm said afterward it was big enough to boil -a haggis in. When Kurt had accepted it and expressed his thanks, he -paused for a minute, looked around the room, and said, "Most of you -people here tonight are drivers or mechanics or fans who are interested -in sports-car racing. It's a new sport in the United States, but it is -rapidly developing to the point where it's becoming a national sport. -Its long-range results will be better cars, with more safety features -and better drivers. - -"Some of you guys, like me, have been in the game a long time. We -know that it isn't the winner who makes the race. It's all the other -competitors who are in there trying to win and their mechanics who put -in a lot of unpaid work fixing up their cars. It takes just as much -guts to lose a race as it does to win one. What I'm trying to say is -that it's the effort that matters and the courage that goes into it. -Not the result. - -"In this connection, I think there's one driver here tonight who is -more entitled to this trophy than I. Before I mention his name, I'll -tell you something about him. He's a pretty young guy, and he's been -racing something less than a year. - -"He didn't drive any well-known make of car. In fact, the car he drove -had a hundred per cent accident record. It had been on the track only -twice before. The first time its steering went out. The second time the -brakes failed and the driver, Jimmy Randolph, was killed. - -"Randy believed in that car, and a lot of us were asked to race it -after his death. I was one of the people asked, and I refused. I -refused because I didn't trust it, and I believed that it might crack -up again. A lot of the rest of us turned the car down for the same -reasons. - -"But one guy didn't turn it down. He probably had the same doubts and -fears to overcome that we had. But he had the guts to put them aside -and drive the car anyway. - -"He drove a magnificent race, despite his inexperience. And he brought -a great new car to American tracks. It's hardly necessary for me now to -identify either the car or the driver. But I will do so anyway. The car -is the Black Tiger and the driver, Woody Hartford--" - -If Kurt was going to say any more, he didn't get a chance for fully -ten minutes. Cheer after cheer filled the banquet room, and Tom and -another man on Woody's left picked him up and stood him upon a chair -for everyone to see. Woody's legs were trembling again, but this time -he didn't care. - -When some order was finally restored, Kurt continued. "Just before this -banquet," he said, "without Woody's knowing anything about it, some -of the other drivers and I had a meeting with the track officials and -those who donated this trophy. We all agreed that while I might have -won it by being first, the guy who really deserves to get it is young -Woody Hartford. So come right over here, Woody, and take this trophy, -for it really belongs to you." - -Woody got down shakily from the chair and took the trophy. He didn't -know what to say, and for five minutes he didn't have to say anything -for the cheering went on for that time. When finally there was enough -silence for him to make himself heard, all he could get out was, "Gee. -Thanks." - -Kurt took the microphone back again. "I think Woody has a lot more to -say than that," he said. "But right at the present time, his clutch is -slipping. So we'll let him off. We know how he feels anyway. - -"Just one more piece of news and then I'll sit down. Most of you older -drivers remember a great racing driver who was a friend of Randy's in -the old days. His name is William Orville Randolph McNess, commonly -known as Worm. - -"Those who knew Worm ten or fifteen years ago know that he's been -fighting a private battle of his own. I won't go into the details. -All I want to say is that between Randy, Woody, and the Black Tiger, -Worm seems to have won that battle. At least I heard him cautiously -inquiring the price of an XK140 Jag, and I'll be very surprised if at -the next event, we don't have to contend with him as well as young -Woody." - -There was another outburst of cheering at this announcement and Worm's -back was thoroughly pummeled to an impromptu chorus of "He's a Jolly -Good Fellow." - -When it was all over, Woody and Worm met outside beside the Black -Tiger. Worm patted it affectionately. - -"Tae think," he said, "that I called ye a man-killer." - -"You should have called it a man-maker instead," said Mary Jane coming -up out of the darkness. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK TIGER *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Black Tiger</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Patrick O'Connor</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Ray Campbell</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 6, 2022 [eBook #67571]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK TIGER ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop"> - <img src="images/illusc.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>THE BLACK TIGER</h1> - -<h2>By PATRICK O'CONNOR</h2> - -<p>IVES WASHBURN, INC.<br /> -NEW YORK</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Copyright 1956 by Ives Washburn, Inc.</span></p> - -<p>All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce<br /> -this book, or parts thereof, in any form, except<br /> -for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Manufactured in the United States of America</span></p> - -<p><i>Dedicated</i><br /> -to Bill and Steve Dredge and the<br /> -happy fraternity of sports-car racing<br /> -drivers in the United States of America.<br /> -Also to their hero mechanics.</p> - -<p><i>Also by Patrick O'Connor</i><br /> -THE SOCIETY OF FOXES<br /> -FLIGHT OF THE PEACOCK<br /> -THE WATERMELON MYSTERY</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>THE BLACK TIGER</h2> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>1</h2> - - -<p>Woody Hartford, seated upon a four-legged stool of uncertain design, -examined the pieces of a carburetor that lay on a bench before him, and -contemplated a problem of the nicest delicacy.</p> - -<p>The problem had nothing to do with the carburetor. Woody at seventeen -could put that back together without even thinking of what he was -doing. He'd cleaned and adjusted a score of them since he first started -working at McNess Union Service Station, Hermosa Beach, California, -two years ago. The problem concerned the matter of whether to spend -ten dollars on Cindy Lou or on Mary Jane. It was not one that could be -lightly decided.</p> - -<p>There were, Woody was dimly aware, certain ethical factors involved. -Cindy Lou needed the money spent on her in the worst way. On the other -hand, if Mary Jane ever found out about it, she would, in a ladylike -manner, raise a great deal of trouble.</p> - -<p>Again, if, to avoid strained relations with Mary Jane, Woody spent the -money on her, it would be a long time before he would have a ten spot -to spend on Cindy Lou.</p> - -<p>"A guy with a hot rod and thirty bucks a week," Woody said to the float -chamber of the carburetor, "has no right having a girl friend, too. -On the other hand," he added, "a guy with a hot rod is going to wind -up with a girl friend whether he wants one or not. There's no arguing -about that."</p> - -<p>He sighed, reached for one of a number of remarkably dirty rags on the -workbench, and thrust it into the float chamber of the carburetor. He'd -have used a clean rag if one was available. Clean rags were delivered -every Monday to the McNess Union Service Station, but Mondays were -Woody's days off. When he arrived for work on Tuesday the rags were all -uniformly dirty. This was one of the minor oddities about the service -station that Woody had long ago ceased to trouble himself over.</p> - -<p>Cindy Lou was Woody's hot rod. Or to be more precise, she was Woody's -1940 Ford coupé, which he was converting into a hot rod with the hope -one day of competing in drag races. He'd already milled her head, -worked over the chassis, changed the gear ratio, and moved the engine -so that it was no longer in front of the driver's seat. Instead it was -alongside the driver, and separated from the driver by a makeshift -firewall. All that was needed now was to buy a four-carburetor manifold -and Woody figured that Cindy Lou would hit a hundred miles an hour in -a quarter mile from a standing start. A hundred miles an hour wasn't -championship speed or anything like it. Some of the boys were getting a -hundred and thirty out of their mills. But it would be good for Cindy -Lou, and with more expansive engine modifications, it could be improved -even further.</p> - -<p>But the final payment on the carburetor rig, secondhand, would cost ten -bucks. And Mary Jane was expecting to be taken out that night with the -same ten bucks.</p> - -<p>"Maybe," said Woody hopefully, still cleaning the float chamber, "I -could give the guy five on the manifold and squeak by with Mary Jane -on the other five." But he knew even as he said it that the compromise -wouldn't work. Bob Peters, who had the manifold, wanted cash and spoke -darkly of several other offers. And Mary Jane wasn't the kind of girl -you could take to the corner drugstore for a lemon coke, then to the -movies, and call it an evening.</p> - -<p>Every now and then Mary Jane got it into her head that she wanted -to go out in style. And Woody knew he'd better take her. She went -through phases of being very sophisticated and looked upon drugstore -entertainment as kid stuff. During her sophisticated intervals, she -read books by Aldous Huxley and talked about the social obligations of -the upper strata.</p> - -<p>At such times, and this was one of them, Mary Jane didn't want to hear -a word about Cindy Lou, in which she was normally interested. And the -mention of carburetors and manifolds left her slightly hostile.</p> - -<p>The telephone rang, interrupting Woody's reflections. He wiped his -hands briefly on his khaki pants, got down off the stool, and went over -to the phone, which was fastened to a wall of the garage.</p> - -<p>"McNess Union Service Station," he said into the mouthpiece.</p> - -<p>"Hi," said a cheerful voice at the other end. "That you, Woody?"</p> - -<p>"Yep."</p> - -<p>"How are things?"</p> - -<p>Things, Woody replied, rubbing the end of his nose with an -oil-blackened hand, were pretty good. He knew what was coming. Bob was -on the line and after a little more palaver would want to know whether -he was going to hand over the final payment on the manifold. Bob was -never one to get right to the point. He was studying salesmanship and -had read somewhere that most big sales were made in the course of -friendly discussions with clients about their own problems and affairs. -So Bob asked Woody whether he felt good and whether his dad was in -good health and had he gone to the dry lakes racecourse last weekend -and what he thought of the weather. Woody replied noncommittally to -all these inquiries while he weighed Cindy Lou in the balance against -Mary Jane. Finally Bob decided that he'd done enough of the friendly -discussion part of salesmanship and should get down to the point.</p> - -<p>"Say, Woody," he said, "I don't want you to get the idea that I'm -rushing you. But I've had a couple of offers for that manifold, and I -was wondering whether you could give me the last payment and pick it up -today. I'd like to have you have it rather than these other guys, but I -need the dough today."</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't settle for five now and five next payday, would you?" asked -Woody.</p> - -<p>"No," said Bob. "I'd like to oblige a pal. But I've got a real hot deal -on myself, and I've got to have the skins."</p> - -<p>"O.K.," said Woody. "I'll pay it off."</p> - -<p>"Swell," said Bob. "You going to be there this evening?"</p> - -<p>"Until seven," Woody replied.</p> - -<p>"I'll buzz by with the plumbing and pick up the dough about six-thirty. -S'long."</p> - -<p>"S'long," said Woody and put down the receiver.</p> - -<p>Only when he had hung up did he realize the enormity of his offense. -Without consulting her, he had in one second rejected Mary Jane for -Cindy Lou. And Mary Jane was definitely expecting to be taken out that -night. When he'd paid for the manifold, he would have exactly one -dollar and fifteen cents left. That was not sufficient for even a -lemon-coke-and-movie evening.</p> - -<p>Furthermore there wasn't any hope of raising a loan this late in the -day. Woody's father, who would be good for a loan after a slight -lecture, was out of town. His mother, he knew, had only three or four -dollars of housekeeping money around and probably needed that. And Worm -McNess, proprietor of the McNess Union Service Station and Woody's -boss, was as tight as a tappet. His idea of a loan was fifty cents, and -Woody needed at least seven or eight dollars.</p> - -<p>Worm McNess came by his nickname fairly enough. His full name was -William Orville Randolph McNess, the initials spelling "Worm." But -beyond that he was long and thin, rather as if a piece of spaghetti -had been brought to man size and given human features and limbs. And -over and above all, this Worm could wiggle and twist around a car in -positions next to impossible for mechanics built on more normal lines.</p> - -<p>Woody liked Worm. He was a good boss with a quiet sense of humor and -an inexhaustible knowledge of the insides of automobiles. Woody could -never make up his mind whether Worm really liked cars or not. He seemed -to view them all with a certain contempt. "Bucket" was his terse term -for any automobile brought into the service station for repair—though -it was a term he did not use in the presence of the owner. Cadillacs, -Thunderbirds, or Chevvies—all were buckets to Worm. Yet he worked on -them with the greatest care, and when he was through, had always done -an expert job. It was hard for Woody to understand why he viewed all -automobiles with such contempt and yet worked on them with such care.</p> - -<p>Worm was putting the pan back on a Chevvy now—the same car whose -carburetor Woody was busy cleaning. He rolled out from underneath, -got to his feet somewhat unsteadily, and hunched his thin shoulders -forward. This done, he reached gingerly with two long greasy fingers -into the breast pocket of his shirt and took out a cigarette.</p> - -<p>"Hurry oop wi' yon carburetor and let's get this bucket o' bolts oot of -here," he said. His accent, after fifteen years in America, was still -straight from Aberdeen, Scotland.</p> - -<p>Woody by now had the carburetor back together again and got busy -installing it. All the time he kept wondering whether he ought to -call Bob Peters and tell him he found he hadn't the dough and the -manifold deal was off. Or whether he ought to call Mary Jane and tell -her something had come up and he couldn't take her out that night. Or -whether, just on the chance that this was a day for miracles, he ought -to ask Worm for a loan of six or seven bucks.</p> - -<p>He decided, since Worm was close at hand and relaxing with his -cigarette, that he'd try him first.</p> - -<p>"Say, Worm," he said in as offhand a manner as he could manage, "how -about letting me have a couple of bucks until payday?"</p> - -<p>"Bucket o' bolts," he said ignoring the question completely and shaking -his head more in sorrow than in anger over the Chevvy. "Mon, they ought -to take the poor beastie and gie her a decent Christian burial. She's -eighty thousand miles on her if she's been driven a yard."</p> - -<p>Woody was used to these tactics and knew what to do about them. He -said nothing for a minute or two while he connected the gas line to the -carburetor. Then he said, "How about letting me have a couple of bucks -until payday, Worm?"</p> - -<p>"It's a wonder her wheels aren't square," said Worm, concentrating with -great determination on the car. "I tell you, laddie, there's no one but -McNess could have got her running again."</p> - -<p>"You could take it all out of the first pay check," Woody persisted.</p> - -<p>"Her cylinders have been bored so many times, her pistons will be -slapping aroond in water before long."</p> - -<p>"Worm, I just got to have the dough."</p> - -<p>"Hoot, laddie. What's all your concern aboot money? Ye'll only be -spending it. When I served my apprenticeship in Aberdeen, I worked five -years without getting a nickel."</p> - -<p>Woody sighed. "O.K.," he said. "Forget it."</p> - -<p>So easy a victory disturbed Worm. He felt that he had been perhaps -something less than generous. He was sensitive about being considered -tight with money (undoubtedly because this was the truth) and would -tell anyone who was prepared to listen that the Highland Scots are the -most generous people in the world. He was a Highland Scot.</p> - -<p>"Ah weel," he said, "I recall as a laddie that it was hard to be -walking around without a groat to comfort me fist with. How much do ye -want?"</p> - -<p>"Six or seven bucks," said Woody. He hoped for ten, but it was a -desperate hope.</p> - -<p>"Whist, mon," said Worm, a look between astonishment and outrage -showing in his pale blue eyes. "Do ye think I'm the Bank of England? -I'll let ye have two dollars to payday and not a penny more."</p> - -<p>He went over to the cash box, opened it as if it were the main vault of -Morgan's bank on Wall Street, and came back with a dollar bill and some -silver in his hand. He gave Woody the dollar, solemnly pronouncing the -word "One" and then counted out three quarters, two dimes, and a nickel.</p> - -<p>"Ye'll be takin out yere lassie, nae doot," he said when this was done.</p> - -<p>"Not on this," said Woody. He didn't want to sound ungrateful, but the -money was just not enough.</p> - -<p>"Laddie," said Worm, "I'm a man that knows a great deal aboot -womenfolk. And there's naething truer aboot them than that if they -really love ye, they'll be wanting ye to save yere money and not go -splashing it around on them."</p> - -<p>Woody wondered what kind of girl friends they had in Scotland when Worm -was a boy. Mary Jane wasn't a gold digger. But she liked to be taken -out now and again, and he didn't blame her for it. He looked at the -long, pale length of Worm standing before him as solemn as a preacher -and decided that he probably hadn't had any girl friends when he was -serving his apprenticeship in Scotland. From what he could gather, his -closest friends seemed to have been a kit of mechanic's tools and a -book called Davie's <i>Problems and Principles of Internal Combustion -Engines</i>.</p> - -<p>There was just about time, now that Worm had failed to come through -with a loan, to call up Mary Jane and see whether he could postpone -their date. He hated to do it, because he suspected that Mary Jane -had had her hair done or received some other kind of unnecessary and -expensive beauty treatment in preparation for the evening.</p> - -<p>He dialed her number, not knowing quite how he would put it, and was -further distressed when she answered the phone right away. Almost -her first statement was, "Oh, Woody, there's a movie based on one of -Somerset Maugham's books at the Criton, and I'm just dying to see it. -You ought to see it too. It got raves from the really good critics. It -would do you a lot of good."</p> - -<p>Woody groaned. Somerset Maugham. That meant that his instincts were -correct and Mary Jane was intent upon an adult-type evening out.</p> - -<p>"Gee," he said. "I don't think I can make it tonight, Mary Jane. I've, -er ... well, something's happened."</p> - -<p>It seemed to Woody that the temperature around him fell about ten -degrees when he said that, and the slight silence that followed seemed -to last about five years.</p> - -<p>"What's happened?" asked Mary Jane, and Woody could have sworn that -there was cold water trickling from the receiver which he held to his -ear.</p> - -<p>"Well ... I just haven't got the dough right now," he said lamely.</p> - -<p>"Woody Hartford," said Mary Jane. "You knew ten days ago about this -date. You asked for it then. You had plenty of time to call me before—"</p> - -<p>"But, honey—" said Woody.</p> - -<p>"Never mind," snapped Mary Jane. "I'm going to the movie, and it won't -be with you. I just hope I never see you again—you and that silly -old car of yours." Woody thought he heard a sob before the receiver -clicked in his ear.</p> - -<p>At ten minutes to seven, Bob Peters came round with the manifold. He -swept into the service station in a yellow Buick convertible that Woody -knew he'd bought out of spare-time earnings. Woody took one look at -him, and his heart sank. Mary Jane, dressed up as lovely as a princess, -was seated beside Bob, and she looked right through him.</p> - -<p>"The manifold's in the back," said Bob cheerfully. "Do you mind getting -it out? I don't want to soil my duds."</p> - -<p>Woody opened up the back of the convertible and took out the manifold. -When he had put it on the ground carefully, Bob said, "That'll be ten -bucks—cash."</p> - -<p>Woody gave the money, a five and five singles, to Bob, and Mary Jane -said, "Oh," putting more scorn and contempt into the word than Woody -would have thought possible. Then the two drove off, Mary Jane with her -nose very high in the air and her brown eyes surprisingly stony.</p> - -<p>"What have ye got there, laddie?" Worm asked when they had gone.</p> - -<p>Woody looked at the manifold and after the departing car. He thought of -Worm's book, Davie's <i>Problems and Principles of Internal Combustion -Engines</i>.</p> - -<p>"I think I've got the same sort of girl friend that you had in -Scotland," he said.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>2</h2> - - -<p>In the week that followed, Woody caught only a few glimpses of Mary -Jane. She cut him dead each time. They'd had their quarrels before, -but Woody realized that this time it was pretty serious, and there was -little he could do to alter the situation.</p> - -<p>"When a dame spends five bucks fixing up her hair to be taken out -and you spend ten bucks fixing up a hot rod and don't take her out, -you're back in the stag line again," his friend Steve Phillips told -him philosophically. "Why don't you forget about that pile of junk and -spend your time straightening things out with Mary Jane? She's a nice -kid. You ought to take more care of her."</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't do any good," said Woody. "Besides, if she's going to be my -steady, she's got to take the hot rod as well. I'm not interested in -dames that want me to spend the rest of my life catching up on Aldous -Huxley and Somerset Maugham. Betcha neither of them can drive a car."</p> - -<p>Woody spent the week fixing up Cindy Lou in the intervals between -working in Worm's garage. He wanted to get her ready for a trial run at -the salt lakes out in the Mojave Desert by the following Saturday. The -salt lakes were where the drag races were held. But there could be none -that weekend. However, the quarter-mile, half-mile, and mile markers -would be there, and he would be able to test Cindy Lou's speed.</p> - -<p>In the drag races, hot rods do not compete directly with each other. -They go singly over the measured straightaway. Their speeds are -electrically timed and the winner picked on a fastest-time basis. Steve -had agreed to come out to the salt lakes to help with the timing. And -even Worm began to show an interest in Cindy Lou now that she was -nearing her test run.</p> - -<p>He came over one evening while Woody was adjusting the tappets and -looked at Cindy Lou with enormous disfavor.</p> - -<p>"Mon," he said, "ye're not intending ta drive that contraption, are ye?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Woody. "Ought to go like a bomb. Figure I can get her up -past the hundred mark."</p> - -<p>Worm made no reply to this other than to give a disapproving cluck of -his tongue. He was fascinated by the weird engine position and got down -on the ground on his back to examine it and the differential hook-up.</p> - -<p>"It's all contrary to Davie's <i>Problems and Principles of Internal -Combustion Engines</i>," he said when he emerged from beneath the hot rod. -"That Davie was a sound mon, now. Ye'd do better ta spend more time -studying his book, of which I have a copy in the office. How many gears -do ye have on this beastie?"</p> - -<p>"Two," said Woody highly flattered, despite Worm's disapproval, that he -was taking any interest in Cindy Lou at all. "Low will take her up to -about sixty-five from a standing start. I have to hit sixty before I -can shift up. Then she'll really take off."</p> - -<p>"Hae ye figured out yere flywheel revolutions?" asked Worm.</p> - -<p>"About six thousand revolutions per minute at maximum torque," said -Woody.</p> - -<p>"Mon, mon," said Worm. "Davie would na' like it at all."</p> - -<p>Nonetheless, Worm was obviously fascinated by the hot rod and gave -a grunt of approval at the way in which the various engineering -problems of its unorthodox design had been solved. Indeed, he became -so interested that after inquiring cautiously whether it would be very -expensive, he agreed to come out to the salt lakes and help with the -speed trials.</p> - -<p>"Ye'll be needing some cold plugs, I'm thinking," he said. "The ones ye -have there'll never do the trick. I've eight I can lend ye. But ye must -gie them back when ye're through wi' them." He went into his office -while Woody looked in wonder at Steve. He'd never known Worm to show so -much interest in a car before.</p> - -<p>"Wonder what's come over him," he said.</p> - -<p>"Maybe he's trying to make up for not lending you that dough the other -night," Steve suggested.</p> - -<p>Woody shook his head. "He thinks he did me a favor," he said. "His idea -of dames is that the more money they let you spend on them, the less -they are worth."</p> - -<p>"Maybe he's got something there," said Steve.</p> - -<p>Worm now returned with the eight plugs. They were of an Italian make, -each wrapped in a piece of greased paper on which instructions on their -care and setting were printed. Happily these were printed in English as -well.</p> - -<p>"I'll set them myself for ye," said Worm. "But ye'd best not use them -until the speed trial. Hoo are ye going tae get yon bucket of bolts -oot to the track? Ye canna drive it through the streets wi' only two -gears. Onyway, I don't think the police would let ye, wi' the engine -beside the driver."</p> - -<p>Woody explained that the car would have to be towed. He had a tow bar -and hoped to borrow somebody else's car for the job.</p> - -<p>Again Worm surprised him.</p> - -<p>"We can use the Dodge," he said. This was indeed a concession, for the -Dodge, a 1928 model, was Worm's greatest love. He'd bought it in a junk -yard for ten dollars and rebuilt it himself. Every year he took the -whole engine apart, renewed any parts that were worn, and put it back -together again. New parts he had to make himself or have made. Yet he -would not consider buying another car and puttered back and forth in -the Dodge at a maximum speed of thirty miles an hour.</p> - -<p>The Dodge had solid wheels and strange thin tires. Its seats compelled -their occupants to sit bolt upright. It was a roadster, with a canvas -top set on oak supports. When it rained, and the top was put up, side -curtains of isinglass had to be installed to keep the rain out. The -windshield wiper operated spasmodically off the manifold vacuum, and -the gas tank, made of brass, was outside the car, slung in the rear.</p> - -<p>Nonetheless, it never failed to start at the press of a button, -and since it couldn't go any faster than thirty miles an hour, its -two-wheel mechanical brakes were adequate.</p> - -<p>That evening Woody worked late making up a batch of dope for Cindy -Lou. The highest octane gasoline available was not good enough to give -her top performance. She needed special fuel of which the base was -gasoline. But, to this, Woody added alcohol and nitro-methane, the -whole concoction smelling vilely and promising an explosion at any -moment.</p> - -<p>He mixed up a total of six gallons, which he placed in three two-gallon -containers and put them in a cool part of the garage.</p> - -<p>When he got home that evening—it was Friday—he was dog tired and -almost too excited to eat. Cindy Lou was hopped up as well as he could -do with his present equipment. She ought to do well. And if she did, -he'd enter her in the Southcal Drag Races at the old Burbank airport in -two weeks. That could mean winning a cup.</p> - -<p>"Woody," his mother said when he came through the kitchen door. -"Somebody called you on the phone about ten minutes ago. But she hung -up without giving her name when I said you weren't in."</p> - -<p>"Any idea who it was?" Woody asked.</p> - -<p>"It sounded like Mary Jane," his mother replied.</p> - -<p>"Gosh," said Woody and went immediately to the telephone. His father, -now back from his business trip and sitting in the living room reading, -sighed. He served on the City Council at Hermosa Beach and was having a -hard time analysing a report on street improvement.</p> - -<p>"Try and keep it short," he said, but he didn't think it would do much -good. Telephone conversations with Mary Jane seemed to last a minimum -of half an hour.</p> - -<p>"Hello," said Woody into the phone. "Mary Jane? Were you calling me?" -There was a short interval of silence during which Mr. Hartford was -shocked to discover from his report that it had cost the city $217 to -replace damaged rubbish-disposal bins during the year. Then Woody said -plaintively, "Gee, Mary Jane. I can't. I've got Cindy Lou all fixed up -and I'm going to try her out—" He didn't finish the sentence but hung -up despondently.</p> - -<p>Mr. Hartford looked up from his report. Vague memories of similar -unsatisfactory conversations many years before with Woody's mother came -back to him.</p> - -<p>"Something wrong, son?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mary Jane wants me to go to somebody's birthday party, and now -she's mad because I have to take Cindy Lou out for a fast run."</p> - -<p>Mr. Hartford took off his glasses and looked at his son strangely. It -was as if he had suddenly discovered a completely new aspect of his -character.</p> - -<p>"Cindy Lou for a fast run?" he said.</p> - -<p>"Cindy Lou is Woody's hot rod," Mrs. Hartford explained, and his father -relaxed.</p> - -<p>"Oh," he grunted. There were times when he realized that Woody lived in -a world completely different from his own, and this was one of them.</p> - -<p>"Never mind," said Mrs. Hartford comfortingly. "Mary Jane's a sensible -girl. She'll see things in their right light after a while. Your father -and I had many misunderstandings before we were married."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Woody gloomily. "But there wasn't a Bob Peters with a -yellow Buick convertible hanging around in the background."</p> - -<p>"As I recall it," said Mr. Hartford, "there was a young medical student -by the name of Saunders who drove a Stutz Bearcat. But for my happy -intervention, my boy, you might be the son of a doctor, devoting your -life to the dissection of frogs."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hartford laughed, and for a moment she seemed, even to Woody, a -young girl.</p> - -<p>Woody was up at four in the morning and met Steve and Worm at the -garage. Steve had brought two stop watches as promised, and everything -was ready, including the sandwiches that Mrs. Hartford had prepared for -the three of them. It took six hours in the Dodge to get to the Mojave -salt lake where Cindy Lou was to undergo her trials. Nobody else was -there, and during the last-minute preparations for the first run even -Worm seemed a little nervous. The cold spark plugs were put in after -Worm had gapped them properly; Woody drained the fuel from Cindy Lou's -tank and poured in his special dope.</p> - -<p>When all was ready, Woody got into the hot rod, which, after a -complaining cough and a whirr or two, fired up.</p> - -<p>"Warm her oop a little," said Worm. "Mon, dinna' ye install yer safety -belt?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Woody. "It's on the floor." He buckled it around him and -squirmed into as comfortable a position as possible behind the wheel.</p> - -<p>"Everybody knows what he's got to do?" he said. "Steve, you stand by -the starting line. Worm's going to be at the half-mile mark. Don't -watch me. Watch Worm. The moment I start to move, press the stop watch. -When I pass the half-mile mark, Worm will bring down the checkered -flag. Stop the watch right then. Maybe we ought to try it a couple of -times to see if everybody understands."</p> - -<p>He made two trial runs, not pressing Cindy Lou but giving her a chance -to warm up. Everything went as planned.</p> - -<p>"Swell," said Woody, "this time it's for real. Ready?" Steve nodded, -and Woody brought Cindy Lou to the starting line. He stopped her -dead, and then, with a slight nod of his head, slipped her in low and -stepped on the gas. The take-off flung him back against the seat. The -flat salt bed of the desert sped beneath him like a gleaming white -ribbon. Woody looked at the speedometer. Forty-five. Fifty. Fifty-five. -Sixty. Sixty-five. He slammed the clutch down and flung the gearshift -back toward him. Cindy Lou seemed to leave the ground in a clean leap -forward. Woody grinned. Smooth as silk and swift as an arrow. Boy what -a rod, he thought. He hardly saw Worm as he flashed by. It took him a -mile across the salt flats to slow down. When he got back Steve said, -"Twenty seconds."</p> - -<p>"That's an average of ninety miles an hour over the half mile from a -standing start," said Woody. "Man, she goes like a bird. But she ought -to do better than that. This time I'll really pour the coal to her."</p> - -<p>The second run showed an average of ninety-two miles an hour from the -standing start.</p> - -<p>"Try her over the mile," Steve suggested. "Then you can see what she'll -do when she has time to get rolling."</p> - -<p>Woody waited until Worm had driven out to the mile mark in the Dodge -and waved his flag to show he was ready. Then he took off again. This -time he decided that he'd wind Cindy Lou up real tight in low as fast -as he could, and jam her into high with his foot all the way down on -the accelerator. The hot rod fled down the salt flat with a defiant -snarling roar. For the split second when she was in neutral between -gear shifts, it seemed to Woody she would shake herself to pieces. -Then he flipped her into high and again experienced that clean lancing -forward as the gear took hold.</p> - -<p>With the accelerator all the way down it seemed as if Worm and the -ground he stood upon were being flung toward him. Then, from the engine -by his side, came a strange and ominous sound. It started as nothing -more than a heavy knocking but in seconds was as if forty blacksmiths -were beating on a boiler with sledge hammers. Cindy Lou slowed down so -fast that it seemed as if her brakes had seized. Woody slipped her into -neutral and turned off the ignition. The clanging and hammering stopped -immediately.</p> - -<p>Worm came loping up. "What happened, laddie?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I don't know," Woody said. "She just blew up."</p> - -<p>"Turn her over," said Worm. Woody pressed the starter, and the grinding -and banging started immediately. Worm got down and looked under Cindy -Lou.</p> - -<p>"Connecting rod," he said. "A piece of it has come clear through the -pan. Yere oil's leaking oot. Worse than that. It must have broken -through the cylinder wall. There's water wi' the oil."</p> - -<p>He looked at Woody and decided not to say anything more. There was -nothing more that could be said. Cindy Lou was a wreck. She'd need a -completely new engine if she was ever to run again.</p> - -<p>They towed her home in silence.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>3</h2> - - -<p>Woody was so depressed after Cindy Lou threw a connecting rod during -the trial runs at the salt lakes that neither Worm nor Steve could do -or say anything to cheer him up. It is possible that Mary Jane might -have been able to remove his depression, for part of it at least -stemmed from the quarrel between them. But if Mary Jane knew anything -of Woody's troubles, she left him severely alone. Woody heard through -Steve that she was going around with Bob Peters, and he wondered at -times whether he ought not to go around to Bob Peters and punch him on -the nose.</p> - -<p>"I'd sure feel a lot better," he told Steve, "if I punched him right in -the snoot."</p> - -<p>Steve was somewhat undersized, a freckled, sandy-haired youth who was -growing a mustache distinguishable only because it made him look as -though there was something wrong with his upper lip.</p> - -<p>"You might feel better right when you punched him," Steve said. "But -one second later you might not feel so good. That Peters is a pretty -big guy."</p> - -<p>"Just a sack of hog fat," said Woody savagely. "Coming right here with -my girl so she could see me handing over the ten bucks to him that I -was supposed to take her out with."</p> - -<p>"Well, maybe he did," said Steve. "But you gotta admit it was you who -made the deal."</p> - -<p>"Say, whose side you on anyway?" Woody asked fiercely.</p> - -<p>"Yours, pal," said Steve. "But you won't get anywhere blaming other -people for what you did. Anyway, that's all over. Did you take the head -off Cindy Lou and see how much damage had been done?" For answer Woody -reached up to a shelf above his work bench and threw Steve a piston. -Part of a connecting rod was fastened to it, but it was snapped off in -the middle and twisted like a stick of liquorice.</p> - -<p>"Gee," said Steve, deeply impressed. "Sure made a mess of that."</p> - -<p>"You should look at the cylinder," said Woody. "There's a hole in the -cylinder wall big enough for an elephant to get through." He led Steve -over to a corner of the garage where the engine block of Cindy Lou lay -on the floor. There was a rent in one of the cylinder walls and deep -score marks on two others.</p> - -<p>"What did Worm say caused it?" Steve asked.</p> - -<p>"Jeepers, I know what caused it," said Woody. "The connecting rod -snapped in that cylinder, and I busted some rings in those other two. -That's what caused it."</p> - -<p>"Don't get sore, pal," said Steve. "I know that's what caused it. Any -kid in the block can tell you that. But why did the connecting rod pop? -What does Worm say?"</p> - -<p>"He says it popped because it wasn't according to Davie's <i>Problems and -Principles of Internal Combustion Engines</i>," snarled Woody.</p> - -<p>"That's right," said Worm coming up unexpectedly. "There's a sweet -little chapter in there that will tell ye all aboot it. Noo, frae -the look of that I'd say that yere crankshaft was no properly in -balance—just enough to set up a bit of a whip in yon connecting rod. -Though it's possible the metal was a mite tired. Ye're lucky it did'na -go clean through the block and spray ye wi' scalding water and hot oil. -But dinna worrit. Nae doot one day ye'll get another and do the same -foolish thing all over again."</p> - -<p>Woody, however, for the time being had had enough of hot rods. Every -time he looked at Cindy Lou or at the engine block lying disconsolate -on the garage floor, he felt sick. In the end, he decided to sell what -he could of her. He'd spent a total of four hundred dollars on the car, -not counting innumerable hours of his own labor. Disposed of piecemeal, -he got back eighty, reselling the carburetor manifold to Bob Peters for -eight dollars. He wasn't very happy when he heard that Bob sold it a -week later for much more.</p> - -<p>With the eighty dollars he decided that he'd better try to patch things -up with Mary Jane. The point was, should he buy her a present and call -on her, or should he telephone her and get a date and then turn up with -a present?</p> - -<p>He decided to telephone, and it was just as well, because she wasn't -in. She wasn't in when he called the next day either, though her -mother, Mrs. Jackson, sounded encouraging.</p> - -<p>"I think she'll be in in a few minutes," she said. "Mary Jane just went -down to the library."</p> - -<p>"Gee, is she still reading those swell Huxley books?" asked Woody, -determined to ingratiate himself wherever he might.</p> - -<p>"Huxley?" said Mrs. Jackson. "No. It's not Huxley, Woody. The last -book she had was called, I think, <i>The Philosophy of Salesmanship</i>. -She's become very interested in selling lately. Last night she gave -her father quite a questioning on whether he was carrying sufficient -insurance."</p> - -<p>"Oh," groaned Woody. "Well, thanks, Mrs. Jackson."</p> - -<p>"Shall I tell her you'll call again when she comes in?" Mrs. Jackson -asked.</p> - -<p>"No," said Woody. "I don't think I will, Mrs. Jackson."</p> - -<p>"All right," said Mrs. Jackson. "I think I understand."</p> - -<p>The next day Steve called him up. Steve was worried about Woody's -attitude, which was very gloomy, and had devised a plan that he hoped -would cheer him up.</p> - -<p>"Listen," he said. "Got a real good deal for us. There's a tech -inspection for the sports cars for the Torrey Pines race tonight. How -about going along? Lots of cars of all kinds. Ferraris, Maseratis, -Austin Healeys, Jags, TR2's. What d'ya say?"</p> - -<p>"Mickey Mouse stuff," was Woody's reply.</p> - -<p>"What d'ya mean, Mickey Mouse stuff?" demanded Steve.</p> - -<p>"There isn't enough horsepower in any one of them to go over a -cardboard box without changing gears," said Woody scornfully.</p> - -<p>"I got news for you," said Steve. "One of the Type D Jags at the Le -Mans race recently developed two hundred and eighty-five horsepower -with a two hundred and ten cubic-inch engine. And it was running on -just plain old gasoline. You know any hot rods can do that?"</p> - -<p>Woody admitted that he didn't.</p> - -<p>"Well, you want to come and see these little bugs, or aren't you -interested in anything that hasn't got an engine big enough to drive a -tank?"</p> - -<p>"I guess I can take a look at them," Woody said grudgingly.</p> - -<p>"I was hoping you'd see it that way, on account of I need a ride."</p> - -<p>"Just a minute," said Woody. "What kind of a deal is this? I haven't -got any transportation."</p> - -<p>"I know you haven't, pal," replied Steve. "But if you're going, you can -talk Worm into taking us there. Tell him every one of these cars was -built by a guy who studied under Davie that wrote the book on internal -combustion engines. S'long."</p> - -<p>Worm, however, was strangely hesitant about going to the technical -inspection. He displayed an odd mixture of keenness and reluctance, -as if half of him was excited at the prospect and half of him deeply -disturbed. His long fingers trembled slightly as he lit his cigarette, -and it took him two matches to achieve the task.</p> - -<p>"Och," he said finally, looking queerly at Woody, "I wish ye'd said -naething of it tae me."</p> - -<p>Woody thought that Worm was merely reluctant to take them there in his -car but, priding himself on the generosity of the Highland Scots, did -not wish to appear stingy.</p> - -<p>"Gee, Worm," he said, "if you don't want to take the Dodge, Steve and I -can find some other way of getting there."</p> - -<p>"It's nae that, laddie," replied Worm, remarkably serious even for him. -"It's nae that at all. It's something I had put oot of my mind a long -time ago, and I dinna ever want it to come back again. And here it is." -In his distress his Scots brogue grew thicker. Woody couldn't make any -sense at all of what he was saying.</p> - -<p>"Skip it," said Woody. "It isn't that important."</p> - -<p>"It's nae so easily skipped, laddie," said Worm and went into his -office.</p> - -<p>Woody returned to his work of grinding valves, a task that demanded all -his care. By the time he was done, he had all but forgotten his date -with Steve and his strange conversation with Worm. Indeed it was nearly -time to close down the shop, and it was Worm who reminded him of his -appointment.</p> - -<p>"Meet me here after dinner," he said. "I'll take ye tae the tech -inspection. It's a thing I must do."</p> - -<p>After dinner he was back at the garage to find Worm there dressed in -a clean suit of coveralls. He had a box of tools with him, and Woody -was surprised that he hadn't changed into his ordinary clothing and -should have the tools with him. However, he said nothing to him about -it. On the way, Steve did most of the talking. He explained that the -inspection had two main purposes. The first was to see that all the -sports cars entered for the race were in perfect mechanical condition. -Every feature would be checked for safety, from the seal of the -gas-tank cap to the amount of tread on the tires.</p> - -<p>"Man," he said, "they really give them the works on that safety check. -They go over everything with a fine-tooth comb—safety belts, brakes, -brake lights in the rear, steering-wheel play, anything dangling -underneath that might give trouble—they don't miss a thing. I've seen -guys ruled out because their spare tires were a little worn. It's kind -of hard to get tires for some of those foreign jobs in a hurry."</p> - -<p>The second purpose of the inspection was to ensure that cars racing -"stock," that is, without any changes from the factory model, hadn't -been secretly souped up in some way to give the driver an advantage -over his rivals.</p> - -<p>"You take air filters," he said. "If the factory in England or France -puts a particular kind of air filter on the car, that's the one it's -got to race with. The same kind of filter may be available over here. -Looks the same and does the job no better and no worse. But if it isn't -the factory filter, the car can't race as a stock model."</p> - -<p>"Heck," said Woody disgusted, "if they can't soup them up, what fun is -it? Any stock car will turn in about the same performance as another -from the same factory."</p> - -<p>"Tuning, driving skill, experience, and guts, that's what makes the -difference," said Steve. "Wait until you see these babies race. It -isn't like Indianapolis, where they just go round in a circle as hard -as they can lick. Once you get into high gear at Indianapolis, you stay -there until the race is over. These boys race on tracks that are full -of hairpin bends, S-bends, and right-angle corners. They have to know -when to shift down and when to shift up. They have to know how to shoot -a blind corner so as to skid round it and still stay on the track. It's -no game for sissies. You get into a hairpin with a cloud of Jags and -Ferraris steaming around you and about three inches to maneuver in, and -you learn how to say your prayers all over again."</p> - -<p>It was not hard to find the building in which the technical inspection -was being held. The streets for several blocks around were jammed -with sports cars of every make. It was as if some kind of automobile -carnival was being held. There was a tenseness and excitement in the -air that was infectious. From being slightly scornful of all the -proceedings, Woody found himself increasingly interested in the cars -and the people who drove them, and a little ashamed of his previous -"Mickey Mouse" label.</p> - -<p>With Steve he sauntered over to a green MG whose owner was screwing an -air filter in place. He was surprised at the size of the engine. It -didn't look powerful enough to run a lawn mower.</p> - -<p>"What will it do?" Woody asked.</p> - -<p>"Ninety. Maybe ninety-five when she's wound up real right."</p> - -<p>"With that?" asked Woody in surprise, pointing to the little -four-cylinder engine.</p> - -<p>"Sure," replied the owner. "Never seen one of these babies before, huh? -What do you drive?"</p> - -<p>"Used to drive a hot rod," said Woody.</p> - -<p>"Me, too," replied the other. "But when I found out about these I -switched. That little engine there has a displacement of just under -fifteen hundred cc.'s—"</p> - -<p>"What's cc.'s?" asked Woody.</p> - -<p>"Cubic centimeters. One thousand cc.'s is sixty-one cubic inches. In -other words, with a displacement of around ninety cubic inches, she -develops sixty-five horsepower. That's darn close to three quarters of -a horsepower for every cubic inch of piston displacement. Not bad, huh?"</p> - -<p>Woody admitted that it wasn't bad at all.</p> - -<p>"Some of the Jags will turn out one point three six hp. per cubic -inch," the MG owner said. "That's on gasoline. That's better than those -Offeuhausers do at Indianapolis using gas, alcohol, and nitro."</p> - -<p>"Let's go look at some of the Jags and Ferraris," said Steve. "Say, -what happened to Worm?"</p> - -<p>"Probably crawling around under one of these buggies," said Woody. -"I don't think he's ever really happy unless he's got crankcase oil -dripping in his face. He brought his tools along."</p> - -<p>"There he is," said Steve. "Talking to that little guy over there."</p> - -<p>They pushed their way over through a tangle of cars, drivers, and -mechanics. The cars looked mostly like toys to Woody, but he had an -increasing respect for them. Worm was talking excitedly to the other -man. The two seemed to be old friends, and this surprised Woody, for -he hadn't known that Worm had any close friends, particularly in -sports-car circles.</p> - -<p>"Gee," the stranger was saying as they approached, "I haven't clapped -eyes on you in ten years. What are you doing with yourself these days?"</p> - -<p>"Running my own shop and service station," said Worm.</p> - -<p>"Anything else?" said the other.</p> - -<p>"Nae," Worm replied.</p> - -<p>The stranger looked at him in silence for a minute. There seemed to be -some understanding between the two of them that Woody could not fathom.</p> - -<p>"Like you tae meet me friends," Worm said, catching sight of them and -breaking the awkward silence. "Woody Hartford and Steve Phillips. Meet -Captain Jim Randolph."</p> - -<p>"Randy for short," said the stranger, holding out his hand. Randy was -one of the smallest men Woody had ever met. He was slim, fair-haired, -and almost boyish in appearance. There were wrinkles of humor around -his blue eyes, and he sported a mustache that would have done credit -to a guardsman. Woody guessed that he was British—either Canadian or -English.</p> - -<p>"You the same Captain Randolph that drove with the Morgan team in the -last Le Mans?" asked Steve.</p> - -<p>"That's me," said Randy.</p> - -<p>"Boy, you must have got a kick out of that," said Steve.</p> - -<p>Randy nodded. "It was a lot of fun," he said quietly.</p> - -<p>"What are ye driving noo?" asked Worm. Randy's whole face brightened.</p> - -<p>"Something absolutely new," he said. "I was awfully lucky to get it. -It's the only one in the country, and none of them have been raced -before. Come along and take a look." Without waiting for a reply, -he led them down the road to the back of a large building where the -technical inspection was being held. There was a crowd of drivers and -mechanics gathered around a car parked in the rear of the building, -and it was difficult to get through them. When they did, Woody found -himself looking at an automobile like something out of the next century.</p> - -<p>The body was gleaming black, and the hood shaped like the nose of a -shark. There was no radiator, the big wheels had wire spokes, and the -dashboard had so many instruments on it that it looked like the cockpit -of an airplane. Randy pushed his way to the back, the drivers and -mechanics around making room for him, and opened what should have been -the luggage compartment.</p> - -<p>"Rear-opposed engine, air cooled, twelve cylinders, four thousand -cc.'s. Develops three hundred horsepower at just under six thousand -revolutions per minute," he said.</p> - -<p>"Wow," said Woody. "What do they call her?"</p> - -<p>"She's made by Milano of Italy, and she's called the Black Tiger," -Randy replied.</p> - -<p>Woody sighed. Here was a real dream car. No other car could ever take -its place for him. But he would never have anything to do with it, let -alone drive it. The thought left him vaguely unhappy.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>4</h2> - - -<p>There are certain cars that those who love automobiles fall in love -with at first sight. The Black Tiger was just such a car for Woody. For -the next few days he could do little but think of it. He longed to be -associated with it, even in the humblest way. He would have cheerfully -washed and polished the Black Tiger for nothing more than the privilege -of being able to look it over in detail, from the small compact -wicked-looking power plant in the rear to the sable tiger emblem, set -on a field of silver on the front of the hood.</p> - -<p>It would have been heaven to be behind the wheel of the Black Tiger, a -racing helmet and goggles on his head, taking her down the straightaway -of a race track at full throttle.</p> - -<p>He besieged Worm with questions about the Black Tiger, and Worm told -him a great deal about European sports cars of all kinds. Worm seemed -to be familiar with every kind of car that had ever been manufactured, -and Woody was abashed to discover that in Worm's opinion the kind of -mechanical work they were doing in the garage was closer, as he put it, -to butchery than surgery.</p> - -<p>"These buckets o' bolts don't call for a real mechanic," Worm said. -This so annoyed Woody that he protested American cars were acknowledged -the finest in the world.</p> - -<p>"Aye," said Worm, "for what they're built for—plenty of horsepower so -ye don't have to change gear, fast getaway, and enough springing for -a feather bed. Ye can no beat them there. But they'll no take a sharp -corner fast. They carry aboot a ton of chrome fittings just tae make -them look pretty. They'll nae gie ye more than twelve or fourteen miles -tae a gallon of gas. Hoot mon. Do ye call it engineering when somebody -builds a two-ton car to take a two-hundred-pound man tae work?"</p> - -<p>That quieted Woody for a while, and he went back to his dream of the -Black Tiger.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, Mary Jane was beginning to find that the philosophy -of salesmanship and the company of Bob Peters left something to be -desired as a steady diet. It was fun, to be sure, to drive around town -in a yellow Buick convertible with the wind whipping through her dark, -curly hair. Bob had taken her out three times since their first date -and each time for the kind of adult evening that she wished Woody would -get interested in. The first time he'd taken her to a nice quiet place -where there wasn't a juke box (always a mark of sophistication for -Mary Jane) and then to a lecture at the civic auditorium. The lecture -was given by the sales manager of a big rubber company, and he had -discussed selling techniques for an hour and a half.</p> - -<p>Bob had spent the hour and a half taking notes in a black notebook with -his name in gold letters on the front of it. Mary Jane was slightly -piqued because he hadn't said anything about her hair, which she had -fixed specially for the evening. But she reminded herself that she -was being childish and told Bob that she had found the lecture very -exciting.</p> - -<p>This had the effect of encouraging Bob to invite her to two more -evenings of a similar nature. At one of them, a personnel manager had -discussed factors in the making of young executives. Bob took notes on -that too. At another, an advertising manager had discussed the results -of an experiment in which five hundred people had been sent circulars -in which they were promised a dollar if they returned the circular with -their names and addresses on it.</p> - -<p>The only bright point in that lecture was that somebody had apparently -collected twenty copies of the circular from other people's trash -barrels and so got twenty dollars for himself.</p> - -<p>When, therefore, Bob called her again with a proposal to hear a -visiting psychologist lecture on "Egotism as a Factor in Sales -Resistance," she decided she had had enough and said she was busy.</p> - -<p>"I just don't know what's the matter with men," she said putting the -phone down. "When Woody takes me out, all he does is talk about cars. -And when Bob takes me out, he keeps trying to improve my mind. Isn't -there anybody who will take me out just because I'm <i>me</i>?"</p> - -<p>Her mother, busy with ironing, made no comment.</p> - -<p>"Didn't Daddy ever take you out just for you before you were married?" -Mary Jane asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," her mother replied.</p> - -<p>"What did you talk about?" Mary Jane asked, intrigued.</p> - -<p>"His business mostly, I think," said Mrs. Jackson.</p> - -<p>"Didn't he take you dancing, or for a ride in a horse and buggy in the -moonlight?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Jackson put down her iron and contemplated her daughter. "Horse -and buggy!" she said. "How old do you think I am? Your grandmother -probably went on dates in a horse and buggy. I went in my car. It was a -Chrysler two-seater—one of the first they ever produced. And, young -lady, I owned it. Sometimes I used to think that your father dated me -just to drive the car. He said when we were married he'd buy me a much -better one."</p> - -<p>"Did he?" asked Mary Jane.</p> - -<p>"No, dear," her mother replied. "He bought me a house full of -furniture. It was much more practical. But anyway, if you're not doing -anything this evening and you want to, why don't you call up Woody?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mother, I can't," said Mary Jane. "We're not speaking. Besides, -he's probably busy with his silly old hot rod."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Jackson said nothing but went on with her ironing.</p> - -<p>"Do you really think I ought to call him?" Mary Jane asked. "Sometimes -we used to have a lot of fun together. Though he's so boyish."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Jackson still remained silent, and Mary Jane said, "I wonder if -he's still at the garage?" She went to the phone and dialed the number.</p> - -<p>Woody was so surprised by the call that he could only answer Mary -Jane's seemingly very casual questions in nonsyllables. He said yes he -was feeling well, and no he hadn't been sick. He almost let Mary Jane -hang up before he recovered himself sufficiently to ask her for a date. -And when he came away from the phone, he was grinning as he hadn't -grinned since he sold the wreckage of Cindy Lou.</p> - -<p>"Ye'll be taking yere lassie out tonight, nae doot?" said Worm.</p> - -<p>"Yes, <i>sir</i>," said Woody all smiles.</p> - -<p>"Nae doot ye'd like a leetle advance on yer pay," Worm went on. "Or are -ye fixed for money? I could let ye have maybe a dollar."</p> - -<p>"Thanks," said Woody, "but I think I've got enough."</p> - -<p>"Weel," said Worm, "dinna spend a lot on her. Them that takes yere -money aren't the housekeeping kind."</p> - -<p>When Woody called for Mary Jane he had the whole evening planned. He'd -borrowed his father's car—a '54 Merc—and was dressed in the dark -blue suit that Mary Jane liked. He had spent half an hour cleaning the -grease from under his fingernails, and passing a drugstore, had had the -happy inspiration to buy a box of candy.</p> - -<p>Mary Jane kept him waiting for only twenty minutes. When she appeared -she looked slimmer and more vivacious and more attractive than Woody -ever remembered. She was not an exceptionally pretty girl but had a -certain grace to her ways and walk that completely captivated Woody. -Her nose was perhaps a little too snub for perfection, but her dark -brown eyes, set wide apart, gave her a frankness of expression that was -especially appealing.</p> - -<p>"Hi, Woody," she said as she entered. "Sorry to keep you waiting. My -hair just wouldn't stay in place this evening." Woody glanced at her -hair, thick, dark, and curly, and didn't mind the twenty minutes of -thumb twiddling in the Jackson living room.</p> - -<p>When they were in the car, he suggested that they go to Merton's for -dinner. Unfortunately Merton's was the place to which Mary Jane had -been with Bob Peters, and she now associated it with a certain amount -of boredom.</p> - -<p>"We could eat there and then go to the civic auditorium," he suggested. -"There's somebody giving a lecture there on something to do with -psychology. I thought you'd like to hear it." Woody had been briefed -on tactics by Steve, who knew that Mary Jane had developed a passion -recently for lectures.</p> - -<p>"Woody Hartford," said Mary Jane. "If you mention the word 'lecture' -to me again, I won't speak to you all evening."</p> - -<p>They went instead to the College Try, a place halfway between a soda -fountain and a restaurant. It had a juke box, and Mary Jane played all -the new swing records she could find, and they danced. Woody decided -that Steve had given him a bum steer, but he didn't mind. He was having -a wonderful time, and Mary Jane was even more vivacious and attractive -than usual. She even asked him about Cindy Lou, and Woody told her that -it had blown up and he'd sold what was left of the hot rod.</p> - -<p>If he'd been a little more observant, he'd have noticed that there -was the tiniest expression of satisfaction and even victory on Mary -Jane's face when she got this news. But Woody went on to describe how -he'd gone to the tech inspection and seen the Black Tiger. And when he -talked about the Black Tiger, it was with such enthusiasm and devotion -that Mary Jane realized Cindy Lou had merely been replaced by another -rival.</p> - -<p>"I don't see what you get out of all this car business," she said a -little pettishly. "It's all so boyish. You just work in grease and dirt -all day long and then you take a car to a race track and perhaps drive -it two or three miles an hour faster than anyone else. And that's all -you get for your pains."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's a lot more than that," said Woody. "There are things in it -that are hard to explain. There's making an engine work better. It -gives you a sense of having done something. And there's challenge to -it. And some danger. And there's a feeling of belonging to a bunch of -really good guys. It's exciting all the time. Look. Steve and I are -going to the road races at Torrey Pines near San Diego next weekend. -It's a two-day event—Saturday and Sunday. And the Black Tiger will be -racing for the first time in America. Why don't you come along? You'd -really get a kick out of it. I know you would."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't think Mother and Daddy would let me," said Mary Jane.</p> - -<p>"Worm's going," said Woody, "and he'd take care of you. Your Mother -and Dad both know him. And Randy will be there." He launched into an -enthusiastic description of Captain Randolph that made it quite clear -that the owner of the Black Tiger was now Woody's hero.</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't know," said Mary Jane. "We'll just have to see."</p> - -<p>Mr. Jackson was at first reluctant to let Mary Jane go to the Torrey -Pines race. But Mrs. Jackson came to her daughter's aid.</p> - -<p>"She's almost eighteen," she said, "and you've just got to get used to -the idea that she's very nearly grown up. She isn't a child any longer."</p> - -<p>"Young people these days haven't any sense," grunted Mr. Jackson. "I'm -just concerned about whether she'll get hurt at the races. That's all."</p> - -<p>"Well, she could just as easily get hurt crossing the main street -here," said Mrs. Jackson.</p> - -<p>"Oh, all right," said Mr. Jackson, who had suddenly recalled that -his grandmother came West in 1865 in a wagon train at the age of -fifteen. Secretly he realized he was rather pleased at his daughter's -enterprise. It would be something to mention casually at the club next -time Wilson mentioned his son's speedboat.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>5</h2> - - -<p>The Torrey Pines Road Race shaped up even better than Woody had -expected. He and Steve had proposed to pay their own admission, which -would not have allowed them to mix with the cars and their drivers in -the pits where the cars were serviced and given emergency repairs. But -on the Wednesday before the event, there was an unexpected development.</p> - -<p>Woody was busy installing a new set of points on a V-8 on one side of -the garage when he heard the deep throbbing note of a car pulling into -the garage. It was not an engine he had heard before, and he looked up -quickly from his work. There was the Black Tiger and Randy stepping out -of the seat without going through the formality of opening the door.</p> - -<p>Woody dropped his work on the V-8 and went right over.</p> - -<p>"Hello," said Randy genuinely pleased to see him. "Busy?"</p> - -<p>"Just putting some new points on that job," said Woody.</p> - -<p>"I didn't realize you were a mechanic," said Randy. "Been working at it -long?"</p> - -<p>"I've worked with Worm nearly two years. But I studied automotive -engineering for three years at night school."</p> - -<p>"Hmmm," said Randy. "Say, is Worm around? I've got a problem for him."</p> - -<p>Worm had by now come out of his office, where he was totaling up the -day's business with a stub of a pencil in a notebook whose pages were -gray with greasy thumb marks. It was an invariable practice of his.</p> - -<p>"What's the trouble?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Got a job for you," said Randy. "I didn't want to bring it anywhere -else because I think you're the only mechanic in this area who can -tackle it. I've tried a couple of other places, but the Tiger is so new -I'm not quite satisfied that they can do the work. It takes the kind of -special training that you have."</p> - -<p>"I'll do what I can," said Worm. "What's the problem?"</p> - -<p>"Basically it's a matter of tuning," said Randy. "She's not tuned -right. We've been working on her all week, and she's sluggish at around -fifty-eight hundred rpm. That's just where I need to get real power. -What do you think?"</p> - -<p>"I can do it," said Worm for false modesty was not one of his vices. -"But it'll take all day. I'll have tae shut doon on all me other work -tomorrow if the job's tae be done right."</p> - -<p>"You couldn't work on it tonight, could you?" asked Randy. "I'd like -to get her tuned really fine and then try her out sometime tomorrow to -make sure everything's super. The race is the day after."</p> - -<p>"Aye," said Worm. "We can work taenight for old time's sake. I'll close -the shop tomorrow, anyway. Woody, can ye stay and help a bit, laddie?"</p> - -<p>Woody said he could with such enthusiasm that Randy smiled. They closed -the garage doors after driving the Black Tiger into the building, -and in the overhead electric light the car gleamed sleek, powerful, -exciting, and yet oddly menacing. The thought occurred to Woody that -here was a car it would take a real driver to master. It seemed to have -almost the spirit of a pedigreed stallion. With the right, sure touch -at the controls, it would perform obediently. But any unsureness, any -hesitation, and the car would master the driver.</p> - -<p>Randy lifted the engine cowling in the back, and they set to work. -Woody could follow most of what the two were doing easily enough. They -checked the distributor, coil, points, spark-plug gaps, and timing. -All were in tiptop shape. Tappets, tiny as toys, were checked also and -proved to be correctly adjusted.</p> - -<p>Then Worm did something that Woody had never seen before. He went to -his own tool kit, which he always kept locked, and brought it over. -He opened it up, and inside lay his tools, each contained in a velvet -covering and glittering like the operating instruments of a surgeon. He -took out the two top trays and laid them carefully on a cloth on the -workbench. From the bottom of the toolbox he extracted a stethoscope -such as doctors use for chest examinations. Woody nearly laughed. Worm -with the stethoscope around his neck, dressed in his soiled coveralls, -looked like a caricature of a mad doctor.</p> - -<p>"Fire her oop," said Worm. "She's no breathing right."</p> - -<p>Randy turned on the ignition and pressed the starter button, and the -Black Tiger purred contentedly to herself.</p> - -<p>"Rev her oop tae five thousand," said Worm. The Black Tiger snarled -in anger and impatience as Randy pressed the accelerator down. Worm -put the stethoscope to his ears and the listening apparatus to the -carburetor intake pipe. How he could hear anything above the deep roar -of the engine Woody could not understand. But Worm was listening as -intently as any doctor to the chest of a tuberculous patient. He raised -a long finger in the air, and Randy depressed the accelerator further. -The Black Tiger's roar was now such that it seemed it must bring down -the building. Worm nodded and took off the stethoscope as the roar of -the engine died to a quiet purr again.</p> - -<p>"It's as I thought," he said. "She's no breathing right around five -thousand eight hundred. The air's no ramming through as it should. It's -a delicate matter, and I hae me doots whether we can fix it."</p> - -<p>"Have to change the contour of the intake and exhaust ports, huh?" -asked Randy.</p> - -<p>"Aye," said Worm. He saw the mystified look on Woody's face and -explained. "It's a matter of using air pulsations tae shoot air through -the intake port and suck it oot of the exhaust. I've not got the time -tae explain it further. Ye'd find it in Davie if ye ever looked. But -it's controlled by the size and contour o' the intake and exhaust -ports. It's like using the air as a supercharger for itself."</p> - -<p>Woody now began to understand what Worm had meant when he talked about -the difference between butchery and surgery in servicing automobiles.</p> - -<p>"I'm thinking," Worm said to Randy, "that if the intake ports were -polished a bit it might do the trick."</p> - -<p>Worm bent over to look. "Somebody installed the wrong gaskets," he -said, straightening up. "Yon gaskets are too thick. A sixteenth of an -inch will make a difference."</p> - -<p>He took the intake manifold off and found two gaskets had been used -on them in place of one. Then he took off the exhaust headers and -found the same. When they fired up the Black Tiger once more, and Worm -listened to her breathing with his stethoscope, he smiled his approval.</p> - -<p>"She'll do all right noo," he said.</p> - -<p>That, however, was not the end of the evening's, or rather the night's, -work. Worm went over every detail of the engine, working slowly but -expertly, and Woody's job was mostly to listen and supply cups of hot -coffee. He had called up his mother to explain he would be home late, -but it was nearly one in the morning before Worm pronounced himself -satisfied.</p> - -<p>"Ye can try her out tomorrow," Worm said to Randy, "and if there's -any further trouble, bring her in and we'll tickle her again tomorrow -night."</p> - -<p>"Look," said Randy to Worm, "I don't know whether I can swing this, but -I've got a vacancy on my pit crew. One of my men is sick. In any case -I'd sooner you worked in the pit than he. Do you think you can do it -for me—as a favor for old time's sake?"</p> - -<p>To Woody's surprise, Worm hesitated. He himself would have jumped at -the opportunity of being one of the crew of mechanics who would service -the Black Tiger during the racing. But Worm seemed loath to take the -job. Then Randy said something that surprised Woody.</p> - -<p>"You've got to get over that, Worm," he said. "It was a long time ago. -You've got to turn round and face it, and you might as well do it with -your friends."</p> - -<p>Worm didn't reply immediately. Woody sensed that there was a great deal -of tension in the moment, and that Worm was being asked to make some -critical decision in his life. Worm fished into the breast pocket of -his coveralls for a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and lit it, his -hands trembling slightly.</p> - -<p>Randy was looking at him steadily—a look between sympathy and -challenge.</p> - -<p>"I made oop me mind fifteen years ago to hae nae more tae doo with it," -Worm said.</p> - -<p>"That was the wrong decision," said Randy calmly, "and you know it. The -only way you can get it straightened out is to get back into the game -again. Otherwise you'll spend the rest of your life with this thing in -the background." Both seemed to have forgotten Woody's presence.</p> - -<p>"I won't think any less of you if you refuse," Randy said slowly. "I -could never think any less of you, Worm. You've done too many splendid -things. But let me put it this way. If you accept, then you're an even -bigger man than I thought you were."</p> - -<p>Worm took a long drag on his cigarette and looked at Woody for the -first time during the conversation. There was a softness in his eyes, -and quite suddenly Woody felt a great warmth for both Worm and Randy.</p> - -<p>"All right," said Worm still looking at Woody. "I'll do it."</p> - -<p>Randy didn't say anything. He just grinned and gave Worm a firm little -punch in the chest, and Worm looked a little foolish.</p> - -<p>Woody, Mary Jane, Steve, and Worm went down to San Diego in the Dodge, -starting early on Friday morning. In San Diego they met Randy and all -had dinner together. Mary Jane said afterward that Randy was the most -fascinating man she had ever met. Certainly he was an excellent talker, -full of wit and optimism. Perhaps in deference to Mary Jane, he didn't -limit the conversation to racing and racing cars but spoke as readily -of the different countries of Europe, with an anecdote to adorn each of -them, as a man would speak of his own home town.</p> - -<p>He talked of sailing on Lake Geneva, in Switzerland, and of the -mistrals, or sudden winds, coming out of the mountains, which made the -sport dangerous; of the Casino at Monaco and the Tivoli gardens in -Copenhagen. All in all he enchanted everybody, so that Mary Jane wanted -to know all about him and both Steve and Woody made him number one on -their hero list.</p> - -<p>Woody noticed when dinner was over that Randy was a little awkward in -getting out of his chair. He thought nothing of it at the time, but the -detail had not escaped Mary Jane.</p> - -<p>When they returned to their motel and Randy had left them, Mary Jane -turned to Worm and asked, "Has Randy got something the matter with his -legs?"</p> - -<p>"Ye're a noticing young body," said Worm. "His legs are all right, but -he's only got five toes."</p> - -<p>"Five toes?" said Mary Jane, horrified now that she'd said anything at -all.</p> - -<p>"Aye," said Worm. "He lost his right foot about fifteen years ago. But -it doesn't trouble his driving, and he walks without a limp. I've no -doot it took him a lot of practice. There was some talk of barring him -from racing, but he proved he's as good a driver as men wi' two feet of -their own. He has a cupboard full of trophies won all over Europe. But -this is the first time he's racing in America."</p> - -<p>"You mean he's racing an unknown car on a course he's never seen before -and with only one foot?" cried Woody.</p> - -<p>"Hoot, mon," said Worm, "I mind the time he climbed the Matterhorn in -the avalanche season wi' the same one foot. It comes to me that yon -Randy wouldna enjoyed himself half as much if he had both his feet. -He's a mon that likes a challenge."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>6</h2> - - -<p>Woody, Mary Jane, and Steve were out at the track early the following -morning after a hurried breakfast. Worm and Randy went out in the Black -Tiger together, and Woody took Worm's Dodge. They would not see each -other until the day's racing was over because Woody and Randy would be -in the pit area while they would have to stay behind the low fence of -wood slats, called a snow fence, which separated the track from the -spectators.</p> - -<p>Woody bought a program and found a map of the track on it.</p> - -<p>"Boy," he said, "take a gander at that."</p> - -<p>The track looked in shape like a wire loop that had been badly -mangled. From the starting line, there was about four hundred yards of -straightaway. Then a right-angle left turn, followed after two hundred -yards by a hairpin bend to the right. There were a series of S-turns, -another right angle, and another hairpin, though not as acute as the -first. Then a straightaway of about three-quarters of a mile, followed -by two more right-angle turns, and so back to the starting position to -complete the first lap.</p> - -<p>All the turns were numbered on the map and there were ten in all. The -track was just under three miles.</p> - -<p>"We ought to try to get over to that first hairpin," said Steve. -"That's where we'll see the fun. Say," he said turning to a man -standing nearby, "how do you get to turn number two?"</p> - -<p>"Butcher Bend?" said the stranger laconically. "Right over by that -clump of eucalyptus. You'd better hurry, though, if you want to get a -good place."</p> - -<p>They had hardly got there when a loud-speaker over their heads said -in a peculiarly flat and distorted voice, "Attention all drivers and -pit crews. There'll be a drivers' meeting by the judges' stand in ten -minutes. All those competing in the first event for cars under fifteen -hundred cc.'s please have somebody there. You must get this briefing to -learn the rules of the course." The message was repeated.</p> - -<p>"What's that for?" Mary Jane asked.</p> - -<p>"To tell them about the flags and the rules of racing," replied Steve. -"For instance, if a flagman waves a black flag to a driver, it means -that he has to go round to the pit area and get out of the race."</p> - -<p>"Why?" asked Mary Jane.</p> - -<p>"Any number of reasons," said Steve. "His car might be leaking gas on -the track, which is real dangerous, or he might be driving so badly -as to be a danger to the other drivers, or he might have deliberately -fouled somebody. You can't just get into one of these cars and drive it -as fast as you want without regard for anybody else. It's a real risky -business, and even with every safety precaution that can be taken, -fellows crack up."</p> - -<p>"I thought everybody just went as hard as they could go," said Mary -Jane.</p> - -<p>"They do. But they've got to do it with judgment. Wild stuff is -strictly out."</p> - -<p>The loud-speaker started to blat again:</p> - -<p>"Today," the announcer said, "we have an event of very great importance -to West Coast racing and to road racing in the United States. A new -Italian car of revolutionary design will make its first appearance -on this track this morning. This is the first time that this car, -the Black Tiger, has ever been raced anywhere in the world. And it's -being driven by none other than the owner, Captain Jimmy Randolph, who -has competed in three of the Le Mans events in France and is one of -Europe's best drivers. Randy, how about saying a word to the folks?"</p> - -<p>"Hush," said Mary Jane, though this was quite unnecessary, for both -Woody and Steve were standing stock-still listening.</p> - -<p>"I'm very happy to be here," said Randy over the loud-speaker. "This is -a really sporting course, and I'm looking forward to an enjoyable day."</p> - -<p>"What do you think of your chances in the Black Tiger?" the announcer -asked.</p> - -<p>"We'll know more about them at the end of the race than we do now -before it's started," Randy replied. "I'm up against some hot -competition, and whatever driver wins will deserve everybody's respect. -There are eighteen other cars in the event—Jags, Ferraris, Maseratis, -and a couple of Thunderbirds—and I'm going to have to keep my eye on -every one of them."</p> - -<p>"Any particular driver you're worried about?"</p> - -<p>"At this point, I'm worried about them all," replied Randy. "Some of -the boys have raced against me at Le Mans. Tom Wisdom in Ferrari number -four is tops, and so is Kurt Kreuger in his Jag—I think it's number -six. But as I say, I'll have to keep my eye on everybody. They're all -tiptop men driving fine cars."</p> - -<p>"Isn't he wonderful?" said Mary Jane, and Steve and Woody nodded their -agreement.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later there came another announcement over the -loud-speaker. "Attention in the spectator area," the announcer said. -"Will Woody Hartford—that's W-o-o-d-y H-a-r-t-f-o-r-d—report -immediately to gate three? Woody Hartford to gate three immediately."</p> - -<p>"That's me," said Woody in astonishment.</p> - -<p>"That's right," said Steve. "Get moving."</p> - -<p>"Where's gate three?" Woody asked.</p> - -<p>"You, Woody Hartford?" a flagman who was standing on the track within -earshot asked.</p> - -<p>"That's right."</p> - -<p>"O.K., get over the fence and cross the track. Gate three's right over -there where all those cars are parked. By the big white building. -Hustle, because they're going to close the track in a couple of -minutes."</p> - -<p>Woody scrambled over the fence and ran toward the white building as -fast as he could. At gate three he found Worm waiting for him and very -excited.</p> - -<p>"Here," said Worm. "Sign this. It means that if you get hit or get -hurt, you can't sue the race track or anybody." He put a mimeographed -form before Woody. "Randy's other pit man didn't turn up," said Worm, -"and I can no handle everything meself. We've got forty minutes tae get -the Black Tiger ready, and because it's a new car, the officials are -letting ye join the pit crew. Hurry, mon. Did they never teach ye tae -sign yere name in thot silly school ye went tae?"</p> - -<p>Woody scrawled his signature in indelible pencil on the bottom of the -form, and the two sprinted over to the pit area where Randy stood, -looking worried, beside the Black Tiger.</p> - -<p>"Awfully glad you were able to come," he said. "Tape up my headlights -for me, like a good lad." He threw Woody a roll of adhesive tape.</p> - -<p>Woody glanced at the headlights of the Jag in the adjoining pit. They -were covered completely with strips of adhesive tape. He guessed the -reason was to prevent them being pitted by gravel flung up by the rear -wheels of cars ahead in the race. He taped the Black Tiger's headlights -in a similar way.</p> - -<p>"Get the fenders now," said Worm, and Woody put overlapping strips of -adhesive over the fore part of the Tiger's fenders.</p> - -<p>"Can you help adjust these rear-vision mirrors?" said Randy when he -was finished. "Just move them the way I tell you." The Black Tiger had -three rear-vision mirrors, one on each front fender and one on the -dashboard in front of the driver. They had to be adjusted so that by -looking into them Randy could see the area around his two rear fenders -and behind him.</p> - -<p>By this time the first race for cars under fifteen hundred cc.'s had -started. But Woody was so busy with the Black Tiger that he saw very -little of it. Eventually all was done and only just in time.</p> - -<p>"Cars for event number two, report to the starting grid," the -loud-speaker instructed.</p> - -<p>"That's us," said Randy. "Coming?"</p> - -<p>Worm pushed Woody into the seat beside Randy and climbed up on the deck -behind the cockpit. From all around there rose a series of roars as -Jags, Ferraris, Maseratis, Allards, and Thunderbirds eased out of their -pits and slid slowly toward the starting area. The noise was deafening -and exciting beyond expression. The cars seemed to be challenging each -other, showing their strength like gladiators about to meet in a Roman -arena.</p> - -<p>In this mass of automobiles, some snorting, some purring, some roaring -as drivers sought to keep spark plugs from fouling, the Black Tiger -slid forward through the pits out to the paved court that formed the -starting area. Positions for the start of the race had already been -allocated. Only three cars could be placed abreast on the actual -starting line. The others were lined up three abreast behind them. The -Black Tiger's position was in the fourth row of cars, with a cloud of -Jags and Ferraris ahead of her.</p> - -<p>Randy, when he had the Tiger in position, buckled the strap of his -crash helmet under his chin and pulled on a pair of pigskin gloves. -The noise around was deafening. Woody was surprised to find himself -trembling slightly with excitement. But Randy seemed completely calm. -Worm walked around the Tiger making a last-minute inspection of the -tires.</p> - -<p>He nodded his head, finding them satisfactory. Woody was watching -Randy, who had taken a casual look around at the cars behind and the -cars ahead. Randy now cramped his front wheels hard over to the right, -but did it without attracting attention. He caught Worm's eye, and Worm -gave him a quick wink.</p> - -<p>"Good luck," said Worm. Randy waved, and Worm signaled to Woody to -leave the starting area and get themselves a position by the racing -pits, which were right opposite the starting line.</p> - -<p>"Why did he cramp his front wheels around?" Woody asked.</p> - -<p>"Just as soon as they drop the starting flag," Worm replied, "he'll be -around that Jag in front of him and have only six cars ahead instead -of nine. That is, if he's lucky."</p> - -<p>Everything now became swiftly quiet. There was no more roaring from -the pack of cars, whose drivers were tensely watching the starter. He, -a rubber ball of a man, dressed in white pants with a multicolored -shirt of violent pattern, was standing to one side with his back to the -drivers. He had a flag in his hand and was casually scratching beneath -his chin with the end of the stick. Suddenly he leaped into the air, -his two hands above his head, and brought the flag down like a comic -ballet dancer.</p> - -<p>With a roar, almost of rage, the pack of cars leaped forward. Woody saw -five of them flash by so fast that he couldn't even get a glimpse of -the numbers, and then the Black Tiger sprang by screaming down to the -right-angle bend a quarter of a mile away.</p> - -<p>"Och, he's a bonny driver," said Worm, his face glistening with -excitement. "Did ye see that, mon? They had him positioned eleventh, -and he lopped off three cars right at the start." Woody was hardly -listening. He was watching the Tiger, which flung after the cars ahead -like a hound after deer. The first eight were in a bunch when they -reached the corner. There were a series of roars as they changed down -to negotiate the turn, and then they were gone, screaming up to the -hairpin that lay ahead.</p> - -<p>"Yon Butcher Bend is a bad one," said Worm. "I'm hoping he'll use mair -care than courage in getting roond it."</p> - -<p>Neither could see anything of the race now, though they could hear the -roaring of the engines and the squeal of tires as the pack slid around -the first hairpin.</p> - -<p>"They'll be here in a minute," said Worm. "Count the cars ahead of the -Tiger."</p> - -<p>It seemed less than a minute before the first of the cars appeared. It -was Tom Wisdom, driving his big red Ferrari, with the figure 4 making -a white splash on its side. After him, hardly a quarter length behind, -came Kurt Kreuger in a blue Jag. Then a Thunderbird, number eleven, an -Allard, another Jag, and then the Black Tiger.</p> - -<p>"Sixth," announced Worm. "Nae! Wait a minute! Watch this!"</p> - -<p>The Jag ahead of Randy zipped by them with the Tiger on her tail. Then -the driver changed down to get ready for the right-angle bend ahead. In -that second, Randy slapped his foot down hard on the accelerator. There -was a cry of "Oooo" from the spectators, and the Tiger flashed past the -Jag.</p> - -<p>"He's going too fast for that corner," said Worm. "He'll roll her over."</p> - -<p>Everybody strained forward to see what would happen. The Tiger -snarled and swerved wide almost to the edge of the track. Then with -a deep-throated roar, she clawed around the corner, her rear wheels -skidding, and was off down the straightaway like a bolt.</p> - -<p>"Did you see that?" someone next to Woody called excitedly. "He took -the Jag and didn't change down until he was on the fifty-yard mark."</p> - -<p>"Then he changed down twice in two seconds," said another.</p> - -<p>"Brother, he'll strip a few gears if he keeps that up," said a third.</p> - -<p>"Not that guy," put in another. "He's a real driver. When <i>he</i> gets -into a car, he's part of the engine."</p> - -<p>The voice of the announcer on the loud-speaker cut in, "Captain -Randolph in the new Italian car, the Black Tiger, is now fourth," he -said. "Ahead are Tom Wisdom in number four, a Ferrari; Kurt Kreuger, -second, in his XK140 Jag; Pete Nevins in a blue Ferrari, number -thirteen; and then Randolph. Randolph passed two cars ahead of him on -two bends. The first on the right-angle bend, turn number one, right -after the start-finish line, and the second, Fred Manini's Thunderbird -on the hairpin. He's driving beautifully and is out to win. This looks -like the battle of the day. The Black Tiger corners like a cat. But the -Ferraris seem to be a match for her. It's nip and tuck all the way. -This is a real driver's race."</p> - -<p>The loud-speaker cut off, and Woody heard a cheer from the far side of -the track.</p> - -<p>"The Black Tiger just took Nevin's Ferrari on the S-bends," the -announcer said. "Randolph is now third, battling to get ahead of -Kreuger in his XK140 Jag. This is the same car that did so well in the -last Le Mans race."</p> - -<p>"Here they come again," cried Worm.</p> - -<p>From far down the track three black bullets hurtled toward them. -Wisdom was in the lead, about a car length ahead, with Kreuger behind -him and then the Black Tiger. They swept by with a roar. The Tiger's -front wheels were abreast of the rear wheels of the Jag. Randy was -sitting back easily in his seat, as cool as if he were out for a -Sunday afternoon drive. There was a slight smile on his face and not a -suggestion of tenseness anywhere about him. Suddenly Randy changed down -and dropped for a second behind the Jag. Then the Black Tiger leaped -forward, and the two of them went into the corner abreast. Woody saw -the Jag sliding crabwise toward the Tiger and held his breath, for it -looked as if it would broadside into her. But the Jag clawed off when -there was nothing but the thickness of a coat of paint between them. -The two disappeared around the bend in a fury of acceleration, still -abreast.</p> - -<p>Now he had to await a report on the race through the announcer over the -loud-speaker. It was not long in coming.</p> - -<p>"Randolph's still fighting to get by Kreuger's XK140," he said. "He -nearly made it at the right angle after the start-finish line but got -crowded over. At the hairpin he dropped half a length behind. They're -shooting the S-bends now neck and neck. Ah. Here it is! Randolph took -those S-bends at full bore, pulling ahead of the Jag with inches -between them. He must have been doing a hundred and forty. Now he's -second with only Wisdom's Ferrari ahead, and battling for the lead."</p> - -<p>The next two laps the Ferrari and the Black Tiger passed by in the same -position. Wisdom knew all Randy's racing tricks and could anticipate -them. The spectators had forgotten the rest of the field, only a few -lengths behind, to concentrate on the two lead cars. It became obvious -that the Ferrari had a quicker getaway and so could make up distance -lost on the corners. But at every bend in the course, the Black Tiger -was on her tail, worrying her, seeking for an opening to get through -and take the lead.</p> - -<p>Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd in the direction of Butcher's -Bend. Woody looking over there could see what looked like a small cloud -of smoke arising. Somebody spoke hurriedly to the flagman in front of -him, and he stepped out onto the course waving a yellow flag.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" Woody asked, turning to Worm.</p> - -<p>"Accident," Worm shouted. "Somebody's hurt."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>7</h2> - - -<p>An ambulance, its siren screaming, sped down the track in the direction -of Butcher Bend. It was back in a few minutes, drove through the pit -area and out onto the main road. Then the announcer said over the -loud-speaker, "We regret to say there has been an accident at turn -number two. The Black Tiger, driven by Captain Randolph, went out of -control, and Captain Randolph has been taken to the hospital. It is not -thought that he is badly hurt. We'll let you know his condition as soon -as we get a report—"</p> - -<p>Woody didn't wait to hear any more.</p> - -<p>"Let's go," he said to Worm and jumped into the Dodge.</p> - -<p>In all its life, Worm's venerable Dodge had never done more than -thirty-five miles an hour, but on the trip to the San Diego General -Hospital, it made forty-five, protesting at every revolution of its -engine.</p> - -<p>When they got there, Woody had some difficulty convincing the -receptionist they should be allowed to see Randy. "I can't do anything -without the surgeon's permission," she said quietly though not without -sympathy.</p> - -<p>"Surgeon," cried Woody, "is it that bad?"</p> - -<p>The receptionist gave a ghost of a smile. "Surgeons treat cuts as well -as fractures and broken heads," she said. "You'll have to wait."</p> - -<p>They waited an agonizing hour without any news at all. Then a young -doctor came through, and the receptionist left her desk and spoke to -him. The doctor came over to them.</p> - -<p>"Are you relatives of Captain Randolph?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Not relatives. Friends," said Woody.</p> - -<p>"We're his pit crew," said Worm. "We service his car when he's racing."</p> - -<p>"I see," said the surgeon. "Well, he says he has a daughter at this -address. He'd like to see her. She's in San Diego apparently. Can one -of you go and get her?"</p> - -<p>"I'll go," said Woody. "How is he, doc? Is he badly hurt?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said the doctor, "he's a lucky man. It's lucky for instance -that he has an artificial foot. That was crushed. Had it been his real -foot, the bone would have been splintered so badly we might have had -to amputate at the knee. As it is, he has a leg fracture, a dislocated -shoulder, and bad burns on the torso and thighs. He's a remarkable man. -He should be suffering from shock and in need of sedatives. But his -main concern is his car. Otherwise he's quite calm, and his mind is -clear."</p> - -<p>"Gee," said Woody. "I'm sure glad to hear it isn't too serious."</p> - -<p>The doctor laughed. "If it happened to me, I'd call it very serious -and give up racing for the rest of my life. Here's the address. He's -anxious to see his daughter so she doesn't get any false reports on his -condition."</p> - -<p>Woody took the slip of paper, which had the address of an apartment -house on Front Street in San Diego. Without asking Worm, he got into -the Dodge and drove over there. On the way over, he kept thinking about -the best way to break the news. When he arrived, he still had not -reached a formula. He pressed the bell and when the door opened it is -probable that even if Woody had memorized what to say, he would have -forgotten it.</p> - -<p>The girl who opened the door was about his age. She had red hair that -looked like burnished copper. It was cut in a page boy and came down -to her shoulders. She wore a black turtle-neck sweater and a skirt of -a dark green material that spread out like a ballerina's from a tiny -waist. Her skin was milk white, and her eyes had a trace of a teasing -look in them.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said politely when she opened the door.</p> - -<p>"Are you Miss Randolph?" Woody asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"I'm Woody Hartford. I was working in the pit with your father at the -races today."</p> - -<p>"Oh," she said. Now Woody was stuck. He could find no appropriate words -that would not alarm her. He decided to plunge on.</p> - -<p>"He's not badly hurt, but he's been in an accident," Woody said. "The -Black Tiger turned over and he's at the hospital and—"</p> - -<p>"Wait until I get my coat," the girl interrupted. She dashed into the -apartment and was back in a second, struggling into a white lamb's-wool -half coat. She pushed past him and down the stairs with Woody in -pursuit.</p> - -<p>"There's my car," he said pointing to the Dodge.</p> - -<p>The girl gave it a brief glance. "We'll take mine," she said and ran to -a red MG parked by the curb. Woody had just time to get in before she -had started it and was speeding down the streets. Woody was surprised -at the MG's acceleration and cornering ability. On the way to the -hospital he told the girl all he knew of Randy's injuries. Sitting -next to her, he realized that she was even prettier than he had thought -at first glance. And she drove like a wizard, snaking surely through -the traffic without a second's indecision.</p> - -<p>At the hospital she was quickly admitted to the ward. Woody followed -her to the door with Worm. He hadn't been invited but realized this was -a good chance to find out how Randy really was and talk to him.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Daddy," said the girl rushing through the door to her father's -bed.</p> - -<p>"Hi, Rocky," he replied. "Had a little bad luck. The Tiger went out of -control and turned over on me, and I busted my leg. Got a few scratches -as well but nothing much." The words were silently contradicted by the -bandages that swathed the side of his head. He looked up and saw Woody -and Worm standing at the door.</p> - -<p>"There's my pit crew," he said. "Come on in. Have you met my daughter, -Rocky?"</p> - -<p>He introduced them, and Rocky explained that Woody had brought her over.</p> - -<p>"What happened to the car?" Woody asked. "How did it get out of -control?"</p> - -<p>"Hard to say," replied Randy. "She behaved beautifully right up to the -time of the accident. I'd just taken that right-angle turn right after -the start-finish line and was going into the hairpin. I had an overlap -on Tom in the Ferrari, and the steering went. Wheel just spun around -loose in my hand. Luckily I was on the outside, otherwise I'd have hit -the Ferrari. Instead I sideswiped a stack of hay bales and turned over. -I hope the Tiger isn't too badly damaged. There was a small fire, but -they put that out in a hurry."</p> - -<p>Nobody said anything for a while. Then Randy said, "She handled like a -dream. She's a beautiful car—the best I've ever driven. I don't see -how she can fail to beat any competition that's offered her."</p> - -<p>In all this time Worm had said nothing. Now, speaking very slowly, he -said, "If ye've any sense in yere head, ye'll forget all aboot the -Black Tiger and racing. This is the second time for ye. Yere luck is -going tae run oot one of these days." But Randy only laughed.</p> - -<p>A nurse came in then and shooed them all out of the room. Down in the -lobby, Steve and Mary Jane were waiting. They'd come over after the -accident, which had taken place within a hundred feet of where they -were standing.</p> - -<p>"Man," said Steve. "He's lucky to be alive. The Tiger rolled over on -him twice and then caught fire. They had to put out the fire to get at -him."</p> - -<p>Mary Jane gave Woody a questioning look. "Oh," said Woody, "pardon -me. I'd like you to meet Randy's daughter, Rocky." He made the -introductions all around. It seemed to him that Mary Jane was a little -cool with her "How do you do?" but Rocky didn't notice it.</p> - -<p>She turned to Woody and said, "If you wish I'll drive you back so you -can pick up your car. It was really sweet of you to come for me, and -I'm very grateful."</p> - -<p>"It was nothing," said Woody. He could feel himself blushing and was -angry at his reaction.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Rocky, "shall we go? I'm going to come back here and see -whether I can talk them into letting me stay in Daddy's room. He'll -need company, and maybe I can at least spend the night here."</p> - -<p>The two went out to the MG together, and Woody felt the same sort of -lowering of the temperature he had experienced when he called Mary Jane -to say that he couldn't take her out because he'd spent his money on -Cindy Lou.</p> - -<p>When he got back, Mary Jane had gone to the motel with Steve, but Worm -was waiting for him.</p> - -<p>"We'll have tae go oot and get the Black Tiger," he said. "I've had a -word wi' Randy aboot it, and he wants it towed to my garage. We'll take -a look at it and see if it can be towed behind the Dodge."</p> - -<p>They drove back to Torrey Pines then and found the Black Tiger had been -taken to a service shed in the back of the pit area. Worm jacked her up -and crawled underneath to inspect the steering linkage. He was there -ten minutes, and when he came out he had a piece of shiny metal shaped -like a large marble in his hand.</p> - -<p>"Steering knuckle," he said. "Sheered clean through."</p> - -<p>Woody stared at it. He'd never known of a steering knuckle breaking -before. It might happen on an old car, but hardly on a new one.</p> - -<p>"How could that have happened?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Worm shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Car may have been dropped in -shipping and yon knuckle slightly fractured. But there's some cars, -laddie, that are just not built tae drive. They're man-killers. And it -comes tae me noo that this is one of them."</p> - -<p>Woody recalled the time he'd seen the Black Tiger in Worm's garage -under the electric lights. There had been something menacing about it -then.</p> - -<p>"Horseradish," he said. "A car's a car. They haven't any feelings of -their own."</p> - -<p>"Maybe not," said Worm. "Yet I've known cars in my day that were -never driven but they hurt or killed somebody." He looked almost with -malevolence at the Black Tiger. "I'm wishing Randy had wrecked ye all -together," he said with surprising feeling.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>8</h2> - - -<p>It was a month before Randy was able to get up to Hermosa Beach to see -Worm and find out for himself what had been done on the Black Tiger. -In that time, Woody had been down to San Diego twice to see him, and -had seen quite a bit of Rocky too. In fact, he'd seen enough of her to -become aware that Mary Jane, despite an elaborate unconcern, didn't -approve of their meetings at all. He tried once to explain that since -Rocky was Randy's daughter, he was likely to see her as well as her -father when he went to San Diego, and that was all there was to it.</p> - -<p>"You don't have to go driving around the city in that midget car of -hers," Mary Jane said.</p> - -<p>"It's a full-size MG TF," Woody said. "And if I get half a chance I'm -going to race it."</p> - -<p>"Why doesn't she race it herself?" countered Mary Jane.</p> - -<p>"She's going to, in the women's races. But she said she'd let me drive -it at Hansen Dam."</p> - -<p>"Woody Hartford," said Mary Jane. "If you drive that car in a race, you -can say good-by to me. I don't ever want to see you again."</p> - -<p>Woody was thinking over this ultimatum when Randy came hobbling into -the garage on crutches, with Rocky at his side.</p> - -<p>"Hello," cried Randy as cheerfully as a wedding guest. "I see you're -busy as usual. Where's my old friend Worm?"</p> - -<p>"There," said Woody pointing under a big Buick. One thin foot of Worm's -showed, revealing cotton socks of a pale lemon color. This foot wiggled -a greeting, and Worm's voice came from underneath the automobile. "I'll -be oot in a minute," he said. "When I get this bell housing back again."</p> - -<p>"Take your time," said Randy. "Just a social call."</p> - -<p>Woody grinned across at Rocky. "How's the MG?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Just super," she said smiling back. "All ready for Hansen Dam. I sent -in my forms last night. How about you?"</p> - -<p>"Well, er," said Woody. "I didn't get around to it yet."</p> - -<p>Rocky looked at him out of her teasing, half-mocking eyes. "You'd -better hurry," she said. "You've only got two more days. Unless you'd -prefer not to race."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I want to race all right," said Woody. "I just didn't get around -to it, that's all."</p> - -<p>"I had her tuned yesterday," Rocky continued. "Purrs like a sewing -machine. Daddy says she's in tiptop racing form right now. If you can -get off for a minute, why don't you drive her around the block a couple -of times? I could come with you." The last sentence was said very -casually. But there was no escaping the invitation it contained.</p> - -<p>"Gee," said Woody, "we're right in the middle of installing a clutch -here. After work, if you're still around, I'd sure like to try her out."</p> - -<p>Worm had by now slid from under the Buick. Watching him come out it -seemed as if there would never be an end to him. First came two long -shins. Then two longer thighs. Then a narrow waist and torso and then a -long arm which fluttered upward to grasp the running board of the car. -By the time he had completely emerged, Rocky was laughing.</p> - -<p>"Do that again, please," she said. "I've never seen so much person come -out from under one car before."</p> - -<p>"Lassie," said Worm, "the Highland Scots are all big people. It's a -short man in the Highlands who doesn't top six feet two inches." He -said this solemnly, without anger or humor, as if he were acquainting -her with a piece of interesting information of which he was proud.</p> - -<p>"How's the Tiger?" asked Randy.</p> - -<p>Worm looked at him sourly. "She's fixed oop as much as she's ever -likely to be," he replied.</p> - -<p>"As much as she's ever likely to be?" repeated Randy puzzled. "Is there -something wrong that can't be repaired?"</p> - -<p>"Nae," said Worm fishing for a cigarette, for whenever he got out -from under a car, he saluted his liberation by lighting one. "There's -naething that can't be repaired. But there's some cars, as ye well -know, that hae hidden traps and faults in them. The best mechanic in -the world canna find them. And I'm thinking that yon Black Tiger is one -of them."</p> - -<p>"You mean that there's something basically wrong with her design?" -asked Randy.</p> - -<p>"Nae," said Worm. "There's naething wrong there. She's as perfect a -piece of automobile engineering as you or I are ever likely tae see. -Davie would have approved of her entirely. But think of it this way, -mon. There's several thousand moving parts in an automobile like that. -They're all moving at high speed—faster than an ordinary car—and -under peak pressures. Yon car has never been tried on a track before -ye took it oot. It's full of bugs ye can no eliminate on a designer's -table or in the factory. They have to be found out on the race track. -Some cars they never get the bugs out of. They're man-killers from -the first time they're driven to the time they give them up. It's my -opinion that the Black Tiger is one of them."</p> - -<p>Randy listened to all this very seriously. He was looking straight at -Worm and never took his eyes off him while the latter was talking.</p> - -<p>When he had finished he said, "This is an old difference between us, -Worm. You think that there are certain cars that are man-killers. And -I think that there are cars that kill or maim drivers until they've -found out how to build them better. That, from my point of view, is one -of the objects of racing—to design fast, efficient, safe automobiles. -The Black Tiger probably has a few bugs in her. But I think she's the -finest designed automobile I've ever seen. I intend to drive her and -find out what the bugs are.</p> - -<p>"By the way, I wrote the company about that broken steering knuckle. -They've replied that they're checking with the shippers. Their only -explanation is that the car must have been dropped. The knuckle is made -of the finest chrome steel, and they cannot understand how, except -through some very heavy blow, it could have sheered off.</p> - -<p>"They're going to foot the bill for all the repairs. They are anxious -to know whether I'll enter her in the Santa Barbara Road Races in -September."</p> - -<p>"Ye're daft if ye didn't write an tell them no," said Worm sourly.</p> - -<p>Randy laughed—a laugh of almost boyish glee. "Nobody will ever change -you, Worm," he said. "Of course I didn't. I wrote and said that the -Black Tiger will be at Santa Barbara and I'll be behind her wheel. -Furthermore, I hope you and Woody will agree to form my pit crew."</p> - -<p>"Och, mon," said Worm desperately, "why do ye ask me?"</p> - -<p>"Because you're my friend," said Randy soberly.</p> - -<p>"It's because ye're my friend that I dinna want tae be there," replied -Worm.</p> - -<p>"You'll be there just the same. Won't you?"</p> - -<p>"Aye," said Worm with resignation.</p> - -<p>The two went over to the Black Tiger.</p> - -<p>"Daddy," Rocky said, "if you're going to look over the Tiger, can Woody -and I take the MG around the block?" Woody knew that she wasn't really -asking her father's permission but was hinting to Worm to release him. -Worm took the hint.</p> - -<p>"Be back in half an hour," he said. "We've got tae get that clutch in -before we close the shop."</p> - -<p>When they got into the MG, Woody turned to Rocky and said, "What's with -Worm and racing? Why does he seem to be half afraid of it, as if he was -always expecting trouble?"</p> - -<p>"Didn't he ever tell you?" countered Rocky.</p> - -<p>"No. Was he a racing driver once?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Rocky replied. "He and Daddy were great friends. They were the -two most promising racing drivers in Europe. Of course this was before -I was born. Daddy was about twenty and Worm the same age."</p> - -<p>"What happened?" Woody asked.</p> - -<p>"I don't think I ought to tell you," Rocky said. "It's Worm's secret, -and maybe you really ought to ask him. Though I'd advise waiting until -he's ready to tell you. I think he will one day. Here, you take over." -She pulled the MG to the curb. Woody climbed out, and she slid over -into his seat.</p> - -<p>As Woody got back into the MG behind the wheel, he saw the Jacksons' -car going by. Mrs. Jackson was driving and Mary Jane was sitting beside -her. She stared at him in disbelief and then suddenly turned away and -looked straight ahead.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>9</h2> - - -<p>For the next two weeks Woody saw a great deal more of Rocky than he did -of Mary Jane. He felt vaguely guilty about it. The business of getting -the MG ready for the Hansen Dam races put him constantly in Rocky's -company. They went to the tech inspection together, and Woody, with -Worm's assistance, remedied the various defects in the MG that the -inspectors demanded be repaired. They were minor—a new tire, a stop -light that didn't work, some adjustment to the brakes so that all four -wheels locked evenly, and one or two other odds and ends.</p> - -<p>Woody had to admit to himself that he liked Rocky. As a matter of fact, -the more he saw of her and the more he was with her, the more he liked -her. But he also liked Mary Jane, and he wondered whether there might -not be some character defect in himself, hitherto undetected, because -of this. Could a guy be keen on two girls at the same time? He hadn't -read much on the subject, but what little he had suggested that this -was contrary to human nature. Most fellows seemed to have just one -girl. Yet there he was with two and loath to give up either of them.</p> - -<p>Rocky had all the things that Mary Jane didn't. She loved cars and -would talk about them for hours. She drove like a wizard and was quite -skillful when it came to making repairs. As a matter of fact, she knew -more about sports cars than Woody did, though she was very tactful at -concealing this.</p> - -<p>Mary Jane, on the other hand, was more feminine. Maybe she didn't know -much about cars and was somewhat averse to them. But she was more of a -girl and, indeed, prettier than Rocky. Woody sometimes wished that the -two could somehow be combined, for the result would have been ideal for -him. Woody would hardly think of taking Rocky to a dance, nor would -he think of asking Mary Jane to help take the head off an engine. -Combined, he would have a girl who could go dancing and work on cars -with him as well.</p> - -<p>Steve was not a great help in this dilemma. "What you think you're -doing?" he asked. "Getting together a harem?"</p> - -<p>"If you want a punch in the nose you came to the right guy," said Woody.</p> - -<p>"Who? Me?" said Steve innocently. "Your old pal? All I have is your -welfare at heart. Just don't like to see a promising young mechanic -getting dame trouble so early in his career." He skipped quickly out of -the garage as Woody threw one of Worm's dirtier oil rags at him.</p> - -<p>The matter came to a head one evening shortly before the Hansen Dam -race when Woody had a date with Mary Jane.</p> - -<p>She was tight-lipped through the dinner and Woody was careful not to -talk very much about either the race or cars. When they were sitting -over a dessert of sherbet, Mary Jane said suddenly, breaking an awkward -silence, "Woody, are you going to race at Hansen Dam?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Woody, pretending to be surprised by the question.</p> - -<p>"I suppose Rocky has talked you into it," said Mary Jane.</p> - -<p>"No, she didn't," Woody replied. "I'm racing her car. But she didn't do -anything to persuade me. I wish I could get you to understand that I -just like racing cars. It means a lot to me. It's the one thing that I -really like doing."</p> - -<p>"If you cared anything about me at all you wouldn't race," Mary Jane -said, looking straight into Woody's eyes.</p> - -<p>"Gee," said Woody, "this hasn't got anything to do with whether I care -for you or not. You know I care for you. It's just that I like racing, -that's all. And I've got a swell chance to race Rocky's car—"</p> - -<p>"Don't mention that Rocky to me again," Mary Jane flared. "She's just -a scalp-hunter. She's out to collect all the scalps she can. And I can -see that she's already added yours to her collection." And with that -Mary Jane got up and headed for the door.</p> - -<p>Woody had a hard time paying the check in time to catch up with her. -He tried to explain more to her about racing, but people kept looking -at them, and even when he drove her home, he knew that she was not -listening to him.</p> - -<p>Her parting words were "You can make your choice between Rocky and me. -And don't expect me to stand around weeping while you do."</p> - -<p>This time Woody got mad.</p> - -<p>"There isn't any choice between you and Rocky," he said. "That's just -your excuse. The choice is between you and racing. And right now, for -your information, Miss Jackson, I'm choosing racing."</p> - -<p>With that he slammed the door of the car and drove off. He hadn't -gone more than a quarter of a mile before he regretted such an angry -parting. He wondered whether he ought not to go back and try to patch -things up. But then he recalled how mad Mary Jane had been over the -money he spent on his hot rod, Cindy Lou. And at the memory he gritted -his teeth and drove on. It was time for a real showdown with Mary Jane, -he told himself. She would either have to take him, cars and racing, or -find some other guy. He wasn't going to give up his chief interest in -life for Mary Jane, and he found it selfish of her to ask him to do so.</p> - -<p>Early Saturday he was at Hansen Dam with Rocky and Steve. Rocky had -raced her MG before and was well known to many of the other drivers and -their crews. They drifted over to her pit and were introduced to Steve -and Woody. She seemed to be very popular with the racing crowd and held -in considerable respect by them. One driver in particular, a long, -dark-haired youth named Pete Worth whom Woody had never seen before, -seemed exceptionally friendly with Rocky. Woody decided that he didn't -like the guy though he couldn't say why.</p> - -<p>"Racing today?" Pete asked Rocky when they met.</p> - -<p>"Of course," said Rocky. "Second race. Woody's driving the MG in number -four."</p> - -<p>"That so?" said Pete looking Woody over. "Haven't seen you on any of -the tracks before. You from back east?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Woody shortly.</p> - -<p>"This is his first race," Rocky explained.</p> - -<p>"Hope you know the track," said Pete. "Lot of hero drivers have wound -up on the hay bales on this one."</p> - -<p>"What are you trying to do, scare him?" asked Rocky.</p> - -<p>"Me? No. But that number-four turn is a pistol. Well, see you." He -turned to Woody. "Good luck," he said.</p> - -<p>"Who is he?" Woody asked when the other had gone.</p> - -<p>"He races a lot," said Rocky. "He's a first-class driver. If you can -keep him in sight, you're doing good. But he likes to go around before -the race and find out what kind of competition he's up against. And if -he finds a new driver he tries to throw a scare into him. He's only -joking, of course, but some of the boys don't like it."</p> - -<p>"What kind of a bend is that number four?" asked Woody.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's not really bad," Rocky replied. "Where is that map of the -course? Here it is. Look, there's a long run out, about a quarter of -a mile, then a full hairpin bend back again. That's number four. The -only trouble about it is that it's narrow and it's flat. No camber -on it to help you get around. The thing to do is to change down at -the hundred-yard mark to second and then gun her around. If you do it -right, you can drift around the bend. But if you take it too wide, -you'll hit the hay bales on the far side.</p> - -<p>"Remember this. If you do leave the track, don't get back into the race -until a flagman gives you a high ball. And if you spin out and your -engine quits, hold both your hands up over your head as a signal to the -other drivers to miss you—that is if they can.</p> - -<p>"Tell you what. I know this track pretty well. I've raced on it twice -before. The track will be open for practice in a few minutes. Why -don't you take the MG and get in five or six laps to familiarize -yourself with the turns? It'll help a lot."</p> - -<p>"Gee, thanks," said Woody. He climbed into the MG and settled behind -the wheel.</p> - -<p>"Fasten your safety belt and take this," said Rocky. She handed him a -heavy white crash helmet. "Here," she said, "I'll fasten it for you." -Her fingers, when they touched the side of his face to fasten the chin -strap, seemed cool and comforting.</p> - -<p>Woody gave a little wave of his hand, put the racing goggles from -his helmet down over his eyes, and drove the MG from the pit to the -starting area of the track. A flagman signaled him to stop, and five -cars, all in a huddle, zipped past. Then came two more. The flagman -waved his arm and Woody swept out onto the track. He revved the MG -up, and she took off so fast that he could feel himself pressed back -against the seat. There was an angry roar from behind and a Singer -stormed past him. Woody started to move over to the left instinctively. -In the same instant a Porsche Speedster swept by him on the left.</p> - -<p>"Cripes," said Woody to himself, "I'd almost forgotten. They pass any -side they want to."</p> - -<p>He felt his knees shaking a little from nervousness, and his hands were -a little unsteady on the wheel. Then he thought of Rocky watching him, -changed from second to third and third to high and blasted down the -track after the two cars.</p> - -<p>There was a corner in front of him before he realized it. It seemed to -be hurled out of space toward him. He dropped down into third, revving -up for a second in neutral. He heard a tire scream as he pulled the -steering wheel over to the left. The MG picked up a rear wheel skid, -careened over to her right a little, scrabbled around the corner, and -was off again. But Woody had hardly time to congratulate himself before -there was another bend ahead. Again he changed down, braking hard to do -so. He turned the wheel to the right, hit the accelerator, and with a -car on either side of him, skated, his rear wheel protesting, round the -bend.</p> - -<p>"So that's how it's done," he said. "You slam on the brakes, change -down, rev her hard, pick up a rear wheel skid, and get around." He -began to feel a little more confident.</p> - -<p>His confidence was nearly wrecked, however, when he came to bend -number four. A series of signs before it marked off the distances from -the hairpin; two hundred yards, one hundred yards, and fifty yards. -He remembered Rocky's advice and changed down at a hundred. But he -was still going too fast when he entered the hairpin. He picked up a -four-wheel drift, and the steering wheel spun around crazily between -his hands. Woody hit the accelerator hard three or four times and -turned the steering wheel in the direction in which he was skidding. A -monument of hay bales, stacked around a concrete telephone pole, loomed -before him. Then they flew past, the steering wheel steadied, and he -was off down the straight again.</p> - -<p>He made five laps before he decided that he was at all familiar with -the course.</p> - -<p>"You did swell," said Steve when he got back to the pits. "But, boy, -for a moment I thought you were going to wind up among the hay bales."</p> - -<p>"Didn't you tell me that you'd never raced before?" Rocky asked.</p> - -<p>"That's right," said Woody.</p> - -<p>"Well, it's hard to believe," she replied. "A lot of drivers I know -wouldn't have got out of that four-wheel skid. If Daddy had seen that, -he'd have said you didn't have to learn to drive. You were born knowing -how."</p> - -<p>"Thanks," said Woody and he could feel himself blush.</p> - -<p>"The track is now closed," said the announcer over the loud-speaker. -"Cars for the first event please come to the starting grid."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>10</h2> - - -<p>The first event was for the big cars—three thousand cc.'s and over. By -common consent the three watched it from the start-finish line where -they also had a fair view of what was happening at turn number one. -Rocky, indeed, went out onto the starting grid to talk to some of the -drivers who were friends of her father. Tom Wisdom was there in his -Ferrari, and Woody could see him talking seriously to Rocky. He guessed -he was asking her about Randy.</p> - -<p>"Is this big stuff much tougher to handle than the MG's?" Woody asked -when she returned.</p> - -<p>"Some people say so. But Daddy says no. He says although they are -faster and heavier, they are also more easily controlled than the light -cars. Of course, a Ferrari is a lot more fun to drive than an MG. They -average about a hundred and twenty around the track, including the -hairpins and other bends, while an MG is doing super if it can average -seventy. I think it's just a matter of instinct and experience. And I -can't say which is the most important. You can't do it all on instinct. -And you can't do it all on experience either. Some of the top drivers -are those who have been racing the shortest while."</p> - -<p>They only watched the first half-dozen laps of the first race because -Rocky had to get ready for her turn, which followed immediately. Tom -Wisdom won, and he was over in Rocky's pit just as she was ready to -leave for the starting area.</p> - -<p>"Congratulations," said Rocky holding out a slim hand to him.</p> - -<p>"Thanks," said Tom. "Good luck, kid. I came to tell you there's a -little oil right as you go into bend three. Not much. Nothing to worry -about. But I just didn't want you sharing the same ward with Randy."</p> - -<p>"Oh, he's out of the hospital now," said Rocky. "But thanks all the -same. I'll take it easy."</p> - -<p>Steve meanwhile had climbed into the driver's seat beside Rocky.</p> - -<p>"Pile on in if you're coming," he said, leaving Woody to climb on the -back. Tom swung a leg over the side and crouched down beside him.</p> - -<p>"You driving today too?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes," yelled Woody over the roar of the engine.</p> - -<p>"Saw you during the practice lap," said Tom. "Nice bit of work on that -hairpin. Driven much before?" Woody didn't think he heard his reply.</p> - -<p>There were eighteen cars in the race, and Rocky had drawn the ninth -position in the starting line-up. Ahead of her were five MG's, two -Singers, and a Porsche.</p> - -<p>Rocky seemed completely calm as she did up her chin strap and pulled on -her racing gloves. Woody wondered whether the calm was all pretense, -whether she didn't feel waves of anxiety going up and down her spine, -and whether her knees weren't trembling a little.</p> - -<p>"Good luck, Rocky," he said as they left the starting area. The smile -she gave him was not the least bit strained. It was eager, and her eyes -danced with excitement. In Woody's opinion, she was looking forward -eagerly to the race and had no qualms about it.</p> - -<p>"Thanks," Rocky replied. "This is going to be lots of fun." She looked -around at the cars ahead, behind, and on either side of her, waved to -one or two of the other drivers, and seemed in every way completely -relaxed.</p> - -<p>Back in the racing pits, Woody said to Steve, "Rocky doesn't seem a bit -nervous."</p> - -<p>Tom, who overheard the remark, smiled.</p> - -<p>"She and her father have nerves of steel," he said. "Just when other -people begin to get jittery, they begin to feel cool. I've been driving -fifteen years now. And I can tell you there hasn't been a race yet that -I didn't heartily wish myself somewhere else a few minutes before the -starter brought down his flag. There they are! They're off!"</p> - -<p>A swarm of cars roared by them, and Woody hardly caught a glimpse of -the big five on Rocky's MG before it had flashed by.</p> - -<p>Woody wished he could get over to the hairpin to see how Rocky handled -it. But he was compelled to stay in the racing pits in case the car -developed any trouble. He was able to see only snatches of the race as -the cars passed by the start-finish line at the end of each lap. The -rest, however, he followed through the announcer on the loud-speaker. -He confined his comments for the first four laps to the Porsche and -another MG, number fourteen, which had started a battle for leadership -at once. But by the end of the sixth lap, Rocky had come up to fifth -place and was fighting it out with a Singer ahead of her. Woody saw the -two speed by, and they were almost abreast at the bend. But the Singer -had the inside track and was the first around the bend.</p> - -<p>The announcer now was beginning to take some notice of Rocky. "Keep -your eyes on Rocky Randolph in car number five," he said. "Miss -Randolph is the daughter of Captain Jim Randolph, one of the great -sports car racers of the day. She is driving an MG TF and doing a -magnificent job of it. Those who say that driving ability isn't -inherited may think differently after watching her. She and a Singer, -number twenty-two, are going into the hairpin together. The Singer has -the inside track. Boy! Look at that. The Singer, driven by Miss Simmons -of San Diego, took the hairpin a little wide, skidded to the far side, -and Randy slipped through the gap. She's now ahead—fourth in the race -and overhauling the Porsche in front of her."</p> - -<p>"Here they come," said Steve excitedly. "There's the first MG, the -Porsche—and there's Rocky—third."</p> - -<p>The announcer picked up the rest of the lap for them. Rocky was having -a hard time getting by the Porsche. She could corner better, but the -Porsche had more acceleration on the straightaway. She remained in -third place for the next two laps, and then the announcer said that she -had dropped back to fourth.</p> - -<p>"Must be having some trouble," said Tom. They waited anxiously. The -first MG passed, then the Porsche, a Singer, then two more MG's, and -finally Rocky came almost crawling down the track.</p> - -<p>She steered into the racing pits, and Woody saw at a glance that her -right-hand rear tire was almost flat.</p> - -<p>Nobody said a word. Steve had the jack out and the rear of the MG off -the ground in almost the time it takes to describe it. In the meantime -Woody had taken off the flanged racing hub that held the wheel in -place. It was the work of less than a minute to remove the wheel and -put on the spare, and Rocky was back in the race in three minutes. But -in that three minutes, all the other cars had gained a lap on her. Try -as she would there wasn't time to make it up and get back into the lead -again. She did make up half a lap, but the checkered finish flag had -fallen before she could improve her position.</p> - -<p>"Tough luck," said Woody when she drove back into the pit. "You were -doing swell."</p> - -<p>Rocky's eyes were still bright with excitement. "It was wonderful," she -said. "I haven't had so much fun since the last time I raced. You boys -did a terrific job changing that wheel. Only lost a lap. Could easily -have lost two if you'd bungled it." Her smile was full of appreciation.</p> - -<p>There was time, in the interval provided by the third race, to check -the MG over. Woody took it down to the gas truck to be filled up and -to have the oil checked. Rocky reported that the engine had behaved -beautifully, so he did nothing there but see that all the spark-plug -leads were firm and examine the valve cover for oil leaks. There were -none. When he got back to the pits, he found it hard to appear cool. -Steve and Rocky were watching the race, and he was glad of that. Rocky -had put on such a wonderful performance that for the first time he -became aware that he had better do at least as well if he was not to be -disgraced in her eyes.</p> - -<p>He sat behind the wheel and looked into the rear-vision mirrors. They -seemed to be adjusted right. He got out and looked at his tires. -Nothing wrong with them. He opened the hood again, took the cap off the -distributor, and looked at the points. They were in excellent shape.</p> - -<p>"What the heck am I doing?" he said to himself, replacing the cap and -shutting the hood firmly.</p> - -<p>"Listen, Woody," he told himself, "all you have to do is keep cool and -drive as well as you can. No sense taking unnecessary risks. You've got -a long time to live. Besides, every other guy in the race is probably -just as scared as you are right now."</p> - -<p>This thought, comforting for a second, was immediately dispersed by a -voice behind him.</p> - -<p>"Feeling O.K.?" somebody said, and he spun around startled by the -unexpected words. It was Pete Worth, to whom he had been introduced -earlier in the day.</p> - -<p>"Sure," replied Woody with all the calm that he could summon.</p> - -<p>"Just dropped by to make sure you were in the race," Pete said.</p> - -<p>"Sure, I'm in the race," said Woody, nettled. "Why wouldn't I be?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, nothing," said Pete. "I saw that Rocky had some trouble and -thought it might keep you out of it." He was quite cool, almost -insolently so.</p> - -<p>"Just a flat tire," said Woody.</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Pete. "Well, lucky it wasn't a front wheel. You can lose -control real fast with a front-wheel blowout. See you down there. I'm -in ninety-nine—the green TF." He pointed to his car, which was three -pit places away. Then he sauntered off. Woody fancied that he was -smiling slightly.</p> - -<p>"Just trying to throw a scare into me," he said to himself. -"Front-wheel blowout! Bet they don't get one of them in a million -races." Nonetheless, he went around and inspected the tread on his -front tires. It looked good. The left-hand one was a little more worn -than the right. But not very much.</p> - -<p>"Both tiptop tires," he said to himself. But he wished the left-hand -tire didn't show as much wear as it did. Probably the front end was a -little out of line. That would account for it. He tried to think of -something else.</p> - -<p>When Rocky and Steve came back, Woody was looking very solemn.</p> - -<p>"You feeling all right?" Rocky asked.</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Woody, "raring to go." But actually he felt just like Tom -Wisdom did before a race. He wished he was somewhere else.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>11</h2> - - -<p>Woody didn't feel any better when he was down on the starting grid with -a school of cars snorting roaring around him. In fact he felt a lot -worse, though he would scarcely have believed it was possible to feel -worse. Only Steve seemed to notice, however, for both Rocky and Tom who -came down to the area with him, were chatting away quite gaily. Woody -thought their attitude positively brutal.</p> - -<p>"Don't you worry, pal," Steve said. "You'll do all right. Take my word -for it. Have you done up your safety belt?" Woody discovered that he -hadn't. When he got it buckled, the firm clasp around his waist made -him feel better. But it didn't stop the trembling in his knees over -which he seemed to have no control at all. He hoped Rocky couldn't -see the trembling, but she was busy with Tom and not paying him much -attention anyway.</p> - -<p>Woody looked around and licked his lips, which were uncomfortably dry. -There wasn't much moisture in his mouth, either. He had drawn a place -well back in the pack. In fact, out of a field of twenty-one, there -were only four cars farther back than his. He got some comfort out of -this. There would be some excuse, perhaps, if he didn't show up too -well. After all, a guy driving his first real race couldn't be expected -to pass seventeen other drivers. He figured that if he passed one or -two of them, he'd be doing well.</p> - -<p>"Where's that guy Pete Worth?" he asked Steve.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he's way up in front. About third or fourth," Steve replied. Well, -that was something. He wouldn't have to worry about Pete Worth passing -him and maybe rubbing it in afterward.</p> - -<p>"Wish I knew the track a little better," he said.</p> - -<p>"Listen, pal," said Steve. "All you have to do is watch the guys ahead. -Watch how they corner. When you see them jam on the brakes, slow down -yourself. When they give her the gun, do the same thing. And if you see -a chance to pass, why take it. And remember, pal, we're all pulling for -you."</p> - -<p>Woody was conscious that Rocky was looking at him. He was also -conscious that the corner of his lip was trembling. He could feel the -twitch in it, but he hoped it was not visible. To make sure, he put his -hand casually up to his mouth.</p> - -<p>"Good luck, Woody," Rocky said. "Got to leave you now. Put your foot in -it whenever you can. She goes like a bomb."</p> - -<p>"See you in about half an hour," said Tom.</p> - -<p>Half an hour, Woody thought. This is one half hour I could do without. -The three left, and he was now alone with all the other cars around -him. An almost lazy silence, disturbed only by the deep beating of -the cars around, settled over the starting area. Woody pushed in his -clutch and put the gearshift in low. His foot kept trembling on the -accelerator so that the note of his engine rose and sank. The driver in -the car on his right hand side looked over at him briefly and winked. -He knows how I feel anyway, Woody said to himself. All eyes were now on -the plump rubber-ball figure of the starter. As usual, he had his back -to the drivers. He bent down, seeming to pick up something from the -track. Then, almost before Woody realized it, he had leaped into the -air and brought down the starting flag.</p> - -<p>Woody let out the clutch as if it were burning his foot and jammed -down on the accelerator. There was a haze of blue smoke before his -windshield, and the whole pack of cars, with him in the middle, shot -forward. Two passed by him and cut in front into a space barely big -enough to hold them.</p> - -<p>"Cripes," said Woody, "that makes me third from last." He changed into -second, into third, and into high, and before he knew it, there was a -knot of cars braking ahead of him to get around the first bend. How -he made it himself he could not recall. He got around in a screech of -tires with glimpses out of the tail of his eye of other cars, inches -from him, swaying and screeching around with their drivers crouched -over their steering wheels.</p> - -<p>When he was around the turn, he glanced, by instinct, into his -rear-vision mirror. It showed the clear view of the track behind him. -There was not a car in sight. He'd dropped to last place in the first -three hundred yards.</p> - -<p>The thought angered him. It angered him as much as the fact that his -legs were still trembling, his mouth as dry as blotting paper, and his -hands unsteady on the wheel.</p> - -<p>He jammed his foot down on the accelerator and watched the needle of -the speedometer creep up to sixty-five, then to seventy, hover there a -fraction of a second, and then move on past. He grinned as he saw he -was steadily overhauling two cars ahead. The stop light on one of them -flashed red. Ahead were a series of S-bends. Woody remembered them -from his trial runs around the track. He glanced at his speedometer. -Seventy-two.</p> - -<p>"O.K., brother," he said, "you're going too fast. But you just might -make it." He entered the first S-bend abreast of the Singer that had -been ahead of him. He left him behind as if the Singer were standing -still. But when he brought the steering wheel over to the right for -the next turn, the MG seemed to lie down on two wheels and started -skittering toward a pile of hay bales. There wasn't time to change to -a lower gear. Woody took his foot completely off the accelerator, and -it seemed for a second as if the car were going to turn over. He was -thrown hard against the side and stabbed his foot on the accelerator -again. For a second the car teetered. Then the MG recovered and flashed -off so close to the bales that he felt a slight thud as his nearside -fender tipped the edge of one of them.</p> - -<p>Ahead now lay two more cars. And another bend. This time Woody changed -down. He revved the engine to a roar in neutral and let the clutch -out hard as he slipped the gear lever over into third. The MG jerked -forward, and Woody headed for a gap between the two cars in front of -him. If the gap remained he could get through. But if it closed he -would be flung against one car or the other. He jammed the accelerator -down and crept into the gap. His front wheels were level with the -driver's seat of the first car and six feet from the rear wheels of the -second car.</p> - -<p>"Come on, baby," he said and urged the MG to more speed. Slowly he -crept abreast of the first MG and was now fully in the gap. The car -beside him started to slip behind. Woody felt a tinge of pleasure and -triumph. He was now ahead of the first MG but not enough to swing -over and pass the second. Suddenly he saw the brake light on the car -ahead flash red for a second. He was braking for a bend. Woody made a -split-second decision. If he braked now, he'd lose the ground he had -made. If he speeded up, it would be to go into a corner again faster -than he should. He hit the accelerator.</p> - -<p>To the spectators it looked as if he were a bolt shot from a crossbow. -His car leaped forward swiftly to pass the one ahead right on the -curve. There was a cry of "Ooh," which Woody heard clearly above the -roar of the engines.</p> - -<p>He had to take a chance now. He was going much too fast. He had to step -on the brakes and risk being hit by the car behind. It was either that -or spin out on the corner. He hit the brakes hard—so hard he could -hear his tires scream and feel the back of his car slew around. Then -he stepped on the accelerator again and pulled the steering wheel over -to the right. For a second it looked as if he was going to spin around -completely on the track. Woody did indeed spin around at a right angle. -But this served to help him around the corner and when he hit the gas -again, he was safely on the straightaway and had passed three of the -cars that had passed him in the early seconds of the race.</p> - -<p>He hardly saw Rocky, Tom, and Steve as he flashed by the start-finish -line. If he stopped for a second to think of what he was doing and the -risks he was taking, the trembling and anxiety would return. Instead, -he concentrated on urging the MG to even greater efforts.</p> - -<p>On the next three laps he passed three more cars. A fourth dropped out -for a pit stop, and that put Woody seventh from the end. Since he had -started out fourth from last he was doing well. He began to feel much -more confident of the MG's ability to stay on the track when other cars -would have skidded off into the hay bales, and began also to enjoy -himself.</p> - -<p>The crisis of the race came at the beginning of the hairpin in the -sixth lap. In the five times he had passed it previously he had noticed -that there was a tendency for the cars to bunch up there. Everyone -slowed down and concentrated more upon getting around the bend than in -passing each other on it. There was a straightaway of about a quarter -of a mile leading to the hairpin, and Woody tearing down this caught -up with a huddle of five cars that had changed down to get around the -hairpin. They were all hugging the inside to give themselves a chance -to skid wide over to the far side of the track when they got around the -hairpin.</p> - -<p>Woody decided to reverse this process. He would start into the hairpin -from the uncrowded far side of the track and try to cut the MG hard -over to the inside when he was around. There would be great risk of a -collision in doing this. But there was also the chance of passing two -or three cars on the one bend if the maneuver came off.</p> - -<p>He approached the hairpin then on the outside and picked a place on -the inside as his target, toward which a red Porsche was speeding. If -things went well the Porsche would be out of the way when he wanted to -get in there. He changed down from fourth to third and third to second, -and, with his engine roaring, cut hard over.</p> - -<p>Then everything happened at once. There was a scream from behind, and -a Singer squeaked by right under his front wheels. It went by as a -black blur, and in so doing, trapped the driver of the Porsche so he -had to step on his brakes to avoid a collision. The gap that Woody had -expected to appear just wasn't there. The Porsche still half filled it. -Woody glanced in his rear-vision mirror. There were two cars on his -tail, the Porsche dead ahead, the Singer, and another car blocking him -on the left.</p> - -<p>His only chance was to cut off the track onto the dirt shoulder and -make room for himself there. He headed the MG for the shoulder, -picked up a skid, slewed sideways, straightened, caught a glimpse of -a telephone pole, pulled his steering wheel hard over to the left, -hit the gas, and then, to his astonishment, found himself around the -hairpin with only the Porsche ahead.</p> - -<p>Woody swallowed hard. He must have passed two or three cars on -the hairpin. But he had nearly broken his neck doing it. The old -nervousness, now forgotten, returned in a flood. His legs began to -tremble. The Porsche fled before him down the straightaway. Woody -changed up instinctively. But when he came to the next bend, he slowed -down well in advance of it, and took the corner cautiously. He was -scared, badly scared.</p> - -<p>He retained his place but didn't pass anybody on the next three laps. -There were only two more to go. But he could not bring himself to take -any more risks. The memory of the skid, of being locked in a whirl of -cars doing sixty miles an hour around a hairpin, and of the telephone -pole hurtling toward him was too fresh in his mind. He made an attempt -at passing the Porsche on the S-bends. But whereas previously he would -have taken a risk and gone hurtling by, trusting that the MG would stay -under control, he now braked and changed down, and the Porsche kept -ahead of him without much trouble.</p> - -<p>"You've got to snap out of this," he told himself. "You've got to take -a couple more chances. Otherwise you'll lose your nerve."</p> - -<p>He steeled himself for another try at the hairpin. He forced himself -to delay changing down and shot the corner from a wide angle. But -just as he thought he was going to get through and felt a tingle of -self-confidence returning, a blue MG ahead spun out. One second it was -holding the track doggedly before him. The next it gave a sort of lurch -or jump and turned broadside on to him. Woody flung his steering wheel -over with a cry almost of anguish. His bumper just missed the front -wheel of the car, which had turned completely around on the track. In -pulling out, he nearly sideswiped another car on his right, and though -he stepped on the gas and pulled ahead out of the mess, he was in a -panic when he got clear of it.</p> - -<p>"I've got to get hold of myself," he kept repeating. "I've got to get -over this." But when the race concluded, he had passed no more cars and -taken no more chances.</p> - -<p>When he pulled up to the pit, Rocky was almost dancing with excitement. -"You drove like a wizard," he said. "I went up to the hairpin to watch -you. It was terrific. You knocked off three cars on that corner and -must have finished about eighth. If you'd had any kind of a position at -the start, you'd have won."</p> - -<p>Tom and Steve were full of congratulations, too. But their words were -empty for Woody. If they knew how he felt, he told himself, they -wouldn't be saying what they were. They wouldn't want to have anything -to do with him.</p> - -<p>For Woody knew that he could have passed at least one or two more cars -except for one thing: he was afraid. It wasn't just nerves or anxiety. -It was plain cold fear. He'd driven his first race and come out of it a -coward.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>12</h2> - - -<p>Woody made up his mind that the only way he could get over the fear -and dread that he now had of racing was to race some more. In fact, he -determined to do as much road racing as he could. In this decision he -had a willing helper in Rocky, and in the two months after the Hansen -Dam race he drove in five events. He was no longer considered a junior -driver and had got over some of the thrill of seeing his name in the -list of contestants at road-race events. He had even drawn mention in -one of the Los Angeles sports columns as an up-and-coming driver with a -lot of dash and courage.</p> - -<p>When Woody read that paragraph, eagerly pointed out to him by Steve, -he wondered how much the man who wrote it knew of his real reason for -racing. Far from having a lot of dash and courage, he was always filled -with caution and plain fear on the track. He only placed at all in the -events in which he entered because he had a natural driving gift—an -instinctive combination of judgment and timing that took him through -tight spots. But he knew he could do better, a great deal better, if he -could get rid of the black fear that settled on him whenever he came to -a bend with half a dozen other cars roaring around him.</p> - -<p>He wished there was someone with whom he could talk over this problem. -He wished he could discuss the way his palms sweated, his limbs -trembled, and his mouth went dry even as he sat down behind the -driving wheel at the start of a race. He wished he could explain how -those symptoms never left him all through the event; how he was filled -with dread from start to finish and heartily wished he had never taken -up racing.</p> - -<p>Once he thought of mentioning it to Steve and went so far as to say he -always got the shakes just before the start of a race.</p> - -<p>"Shucks, pal, everybody has the same thing," Steve said. "But you get -over it, don't you?"</p> - -<p>Woody didn't have the courage to say no, he didn't get over it. Other -drivers did and took chances and won races. But he, although he seemed -to be taking chances, was actually avoiding them and getting through -on sheer driving talent. He didn't drive a race with any courage at -all. He drove it with nothing else but fear in his mind. If he could -find some courage, he might win a couple of times. But fear held him -back constantly—fear of being wrapped around a telephone pole or being -mangled under the wheels of cars behind or turning over and being -pounded to death in his own car.</p> - -<p>About the nearest he got to talking to anybody about his problem was -one evening when Randy and Rocky had come up to Hermosa Beach and asked -him out to dinner. When dinner was over, Randy, who by now was getting -along without crutches though he had a slight limp, started talking -about racing. He discussed the subject as if it were a philosophy, a -mode of living calling out the very best in the character of those who -followed it.</p> - -<p>Woody had never known him to be so serious before. He wasn't sure -whether the conversation was being held for his own benefit or for -Rocky's.</p> - -<p>"Road racing condenses into a few minutes or hours all the problems, -the fears, and the triumphs of life," Randy said, smoothing his fair -hair with a thin sensitive hand. "It demands the one thing that no man -can get through life without successfully. Self-reliance. There are -millions of people quite talented and able who go through life being -unsure of themselves. They haven't enough self-confidence to take a -risk—to change their jobs, their localities, and so on. They live -rather miserably without ever having fulfilled themselves.</p> - -<p>"But in racing, such people are soon ruled out. The driver who has no -basic confidence in himself will keep coming in last. Either that or -he will develop self-confidence. If he remains unsure of himself, he -will quit racing. Just as in life, if he remains unsure of himself, he -will quit trying and seek some job that offers security rather than -opportunity."</p> - -<p>"You don't think it is possible to get by on just driving skill alone?" -asked Woody. "I mean, suppose there was a man who was just naturally a -good driver. But he really didn't trust himself. Wouldn't he still show -up pretty well on the track?"</p> - -<p>"He would for a while," said Randy, "but after, say, half a dozen -races, he'd be fighting himself. He might think he was racing the car -ahead. But he'd really be racing the guy within him. One part would be -telling him to go ahead and take a few chances and rely on his skill in -getting through. The other part would be telling him to save his skin -and not take any risks.</p> - -<p>"That's where the real testing comes in, of course. But I've seen some -good men crack up, fighting themselves like that. They'd have been a -lot better off if they never went in for racing in the first place. -Unless they win a victory over themselves and achieve self-confidence, -they remain miserable for the rest of their lives. They drop out of -racing. But they can never be happy."</p> - -<p>"What about fear?" said Woody. "I mean you've been in a couple of -accidents. Didn't that make you real scared the next time you drove?"</p> - -<p>"It certainly did and does," replied Randy. "But self-confidence -doesn't mean that a man is without fear. You've got to be afraid, to -get any self-confidence that comes from overcoming fear. But some -people never make it. They spend the rest of their lives doubting their -own abilities.</p> - -<p>"The time I cracked up and had my foot amputated, I broke out in a cold -sweat whenever I thought of racing again. All my friends advised me to -give up the game. On the surface, it would have been the sensible thing -to do. But they did not realize that if I quit, it would have been a -victory for fear, and I would have to live with it for the rest of my -life."</p> - -<p>Up to this point Woody had been on the verge of confessing his own -fears to Randy. But now he found he could not do so. This seemed to -be a battle he had to fight alone. It was one with which none of his -friends could help him. He realized dimly that men always fight their -battles alone—not just in racing cars but in their daily living. They -alone can make the critical decisions, and nobody can help with them.</p> - -<p>"How do you feel about the Black Tiger now?" Woody asked instead of -mentioning his own fears.</p> - -<p>"To be honest with you, I'm scared stiff," said Randy with a laugh. "If -I wasn't scared, I might put off racing her for a little while. But if -I postponed it now, though other people might say I had good reasons, -I'd know that the real reason was fear. And then I might never race -again." Woody did say that he was always scared himself when he got -behind the steering wheel of the MG. But he didn't say that he remained -scared all through the race and deliberately neglected chances to pass -other cars because he was afraid to take them. He felt that both Randy -and Rocky would be contemptuous of him if he did. And he wanted them -both to have a good opinion of him.</p> - -<p>A month remained before the Santa Barbara race. It was a pretty -miserable month for Woody. He got nervous and a little irritable, which -was unusual for him. Both his father and mother noticed the change -in him, and one evening his father put down his paper, took off his -glasses with a swift decision, and nodded to Woody's mother, who left -the room. When she had gone, Mr. Hartford said, "Woody, your mother -and I are both worried about you. You're not eating much, and you seem -nervous all the time. Is there anything the matter?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Woody shortly. Mr. Hartford groaned silently. He could -recall a similar occasion in his own youth when his father had tried to -talk to him man to man, and he had withheld his confidence. He was hurt -that his son should do the same to him now.</p> - -<p>"Son," said Mr. Hartford, "I never pry into your affairs. I look upon -you as a sensible young man of whom I am proud. But I've lived a lot -longer than you. That's a mathematical fact. I don't say I'm smarter -than you. But I've just had more experience. Now if you've got some -sort of a problem that's bothering you that I, with my experience, can -help with, I wish you'd let me know about it."</p> - -<p>"It's nothing, Dad," said Woody.</p> - -<p>"Is it money?" Mr. Hartford persisted. Woody shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Is it Mary Jane? I notice you haven't been seeing much of her lately." -Woody hesitated. He missed Mary Jane a great deal. At one time he might -have been able to talk his problem over with her. But she was so dead -set against racing that all she would tell him would be to give it up. -She wouldn't understand that there was more than racing involved in the -problem.</p> - -<p>"No, Dad," Woody said, "It isn't Mary Jane. It's really nothing at all. -I just don't feel well. I think I'll go for a walk." He left the room -rather hurriedly, for he wanted to avoid further questioning. When he -had gone, Mrs. Hartford came in.</p> - -<p>"Did you find out anything?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"No," replied her husband. "There's something the matter, but only time -will bring it out. The boy has some problem, and feels he ought to keep -it to himself."</p> - -<p>"But we're his parents," said Mrs. Hartford. "Surely he should be able -to tell us."</p> - -<p>Mr. Hartford smiled. "Mother," he said, "when a boy decides not to -discuss his troubles with his parents, it doesn't mean that he doesn't -love them any more. It means that he's becoming a man. I'm pretty proud -of Woody. I'd have been just a little disappointed if he'd broken down -and told me what was the matter with him."</p> - -<p>For two weeks before the Santa Barbara race, Woody spent most of his -time working on the Black Tiger. Randy made the deal with Worm, -agreeing to pay Woody's wages. Randy and Rocky rented an apartment in -Hermosa Beach so they could be near the car, and the Black Tiger was -given a thorough overhaul from rear axle to fan belt. In those two -weeks Woody became more and more fond of Randy. The man had a buoyancy -of spirit and a quick humor that was completely captivating. It was -hard to believe that he had any fears at all about the forthcoming -race. He spoke of it with enthusiasm and excitement, as if it were -something he was looking forward to eagerly.</p> - -<p>Woody often wanted to ask him whether he still felt nervous about it, -but could not bring himself to do so.</p> - -<p>The Thursday before the race, which was to be held over the weekend, -they took the Black Tiger out to the salt flats, and Randy let Woody -drive her. Woody had once wanted nothing more in life than to be seated -behind her wheel. But now that the opportunity was offered him, he -sought to get out of it.</p> - -<p>"I'm not used to the car," he said. "I might chew up your gearbox."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense," said Randy. "Hop in. She's getting maximum torque at six -thousand. Rev her up to that before you change. Then change fast and -with full throttle. You'll get a real thrill out of it."</p> - -<p>When he got going, Woody did get a thrill out of it. For a while he -experienced the old exhilaration at his effortless arrowing forward -in the Black Tiger, with the landscape around reduced to a blur. The -car handled much more delicately than the MG. It was, he told himself, -a real racing machine. He glanced at the speedometer and saw he was -hitting a hundred and sixty in high. But when he got back and climbed -out he was trembling slightly and his mouth was dry.</p> - -<p>"How'd she feel?" asked Randy.</p> - -<p>"Beautiful," Woody replied.</p> - -<p>"One day," Randy said, "you might be able to race her yourself." Woody -hoped heartily that that day would never come.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>13</h2> - - -<p>There were two other events before the Black Tiger was due to race at -Santa Barbara. In the first, for cars under fifteen hundred cc.'s, -Rocky raced the MG, and drove better than Woody had ever seen her drive -before. She came up from seventh at the starting line to second when -the race was over, and if the race had gone another lap she would have -been first.</p> - -<p>"This is our day, Randy," she told her father when she got back to the -pit. "You're bound to win in the Black Tiger now. I just feel it."</p> - -<p>"If I drove like you, I'd feel it myself," said Randy.</p> - -<p>The second race was for old-style racing cars and more of a novelty -than a sporting event. Woody saw little of it, being busy with -last-minute details on the Black Tiger. The car was in tiptop shape. It -was still the magnet of attention among the other drivers and mechanics -in the pit area. They came over in twos and threes to look over the -engine and comment on the streamlining. Tom Wisdom and Kurt Kreuger, -old rivals of Randy's who were to race against him again, were there. -They were obviously delighted to know that Randy's leg was in good -enough shape for him to race again.</p> - -<p>Woody overheard Tom say to Kreuger, "If it was a matter of guts alone, -Randy would be sure to win. Boy, he's got more guts than all of us put -together."</p> - -<p>"You can say that again," said Kurt. He looked back at the Black Tiger -and shook his big head solemnly. "Hate to say it," he said, "but that -car just bothers me. Too new. Too many unknown bugs in it."</p> - -<p>Tom nodded his head solemnly, and the two drifted off.</p> - -<p>Randy made different pit-crew arrangements for the race than those at -Torrey Pines. "Rocky and Worm stay here at the racing pit in case I -develop some trouble," he said. "Woody, I'd like you to go out to bend -number five and pick a spot by the fence where I can see you as I come -out of the bend. Take along that blackboard and a piece of chalk. When -I come out of the bend, hold the blackboard well up so I can see it, -and chalk on it the number of the lap and my position. If I'm more than -sixth or seventh don't bother giving me the position. But if I'm among -the first five or so, let me know. Understand?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Woody. "I'll put the lap number at the top of the board, -and your position down below it."</p> - -<p>"Swell," said Randy. "The race is for thirty minutes. Toward the end, -you can forget about the lap number and just let me know the number of -minutes left. O.K.?" Woody nodded and went off to pick a good spot near -bend number five.</p> - -<p>The Santa Barbara track is laid out roughly in the shape of a -horseshoe. The cars travel around the inside of the shoe and then -around the outside to complete one lap. But it is a horseshoe that has -been badly bent, so that instead of just two hairpins at the feet and -a long slow curve at the top, there are a number of near right-angle -bends as well.</p> - -<p>Woody found a good place behind the snow fence and waited, nerves -tingling, for the race to start. Over the loud-speaker he could hear -the commentator briefing the crowd on what was going to take place.</p> - -<p>"This race," he said, "will commence with a Le Mans start. The cars are -parked on one side of the track and their drivers opposite them on the -other. When the starter brings down his flag, the drivers will sprint -to their cars, jump in, fasten their safety belts, switch on their -engines, and get going. The start, then, is a critical moment. A driver -who can get under way quickly can get ahead of three or four cars he -might not have a chance of passing on the track.</p> - -<p>"Well, there they are, all sitting down waiting for the starting flag. -There are three veteran Le Mans drivers in this event—Kurt Kreuger in -Jag number eight, Tom Wisdom in a red Ferrari, number ten, and Jimmy -Randolph in his new Italian job, the Black Tiger, number two. Randy -has raced this car only once before and was doing well when he broke a -steering knuckle and turned over. He's a great guy to be racing today. -But he has every confidence in his car. Here it is. They're off—"</p> - -<p>The rest of what the announcer said was drowned in a roar of engines. -Woody strained over the snow fence, his eyes on bend number five about -a hundred yards down the track. It was a particularly savage bend with -buildings on either side and a house dead in front when the driver -was halfway around. The house was protected with hay bales. Any car -that didn't get around would run straight into them. A further hazard -consisted of a thick telephone pole at the end of the bend, where most -cars would be swinging wide after making the turn. There were hay bales -around that also.</p> - -<p>Suddenly there was a roar, and the first car appeared around number -five. It was a red Ferrari, number twelve. Then came two more and then -a Jag. Then three in a huddle, the one on the outside just missing the -telephone pole. Woody began to wonder where Randy was. Suddenly the -Black Tiger flashed by in eighth place. Randy, with his newly mended -leg, had not been able to sprint over to his car as fast as the other -drivers. It was typical of the man that he had made no mention of this -additional handicap before the start.</p> - -<p>The announcer picked up the rest of the first lap for Woody. Wisdom -and Kreuger, old rivals, were battling for third place. Ahead of them -was Ben Wedger in a Maserati. There was no mention yet of the Black -Tiger. Woody suspected that Randy was still in eighth place. He waited, -his eyes riveted on turn number five. Suddenly two cars flashed around -it wheel to wheel. The outside car swerved off the shoulder of the -track and looked as if it were going to hit the telephone pole. Woody -could see the driver fighting to bring it back again. He succeeded but -dropped to second place. Then came two more, one on the tail of the -other. The first was Kreuger's Jag, number eight. Then Tom Wisdom in -his red Ferrari. Then a Maserati, number eleven, and then the Black -Tiger. She came around the corner like her namesake, clinging to the -inside of the track and passed the Maserati, going full bore as they -came abreast of Woody.</p> - -<p>"He's fifth now," Woody yelled excitedly. He chalked a big three for -the lap number on the top of the board and a big five for Randy's place -in the last lap below it.</p> - -<p>"They're going into the north hairpin now," said the announcer. "Dave -Kingston is still ahead in number twelve, Kreuger and Wisdom are -fighting it out wheel to wheel. They've come up to second and third -respectively. Wait a minute. What's this. The Black Tiger, driven by -Jimmy Randolph, just shot between Wisdom and Kreuger to take over third -place. That makes it Kingston, Kreuger, and Randolph in the Black Tiger -third. But it's still anybody's race with twenty minutes to go."</p> - -<p>Woody forgot about the sign board in his excitement. He leaned as far -as he could over the snow fence to see the Black Tiger come around -turn number five. There was a tense silence in the crowd, above which -he could hear the roar of the engines. He heard the squeal of wheels -and the coughing spit of Kingston's Ferrari as he changed down for the -bend. Then Kingston was around and after him. Turning the corner in the -same instant was Kreuger's Jag and the Black Tiger, wheel to wheel. As -they flashed by Woody caught a glimpse of Randy, sitting quite relaxed -behind the wheel. There was a slight smile on his face, and then he was -gone, headed for the right-angle bend half a mile down the track.</p> - -<p>"It's Dave Kingston against Jimmy Randolph in the Black Tiger now," the -loud-speaker blared. "Randolph cut in from the far side of the track -on bend six to take over the second place from Kreuger. He's battling -Kingston now for the lead position. As they pass the start-finish line -on the sixth lap it's Kingston, Randolph, Kreuger, and Wisdom.</p> - -<p>"Randolph had an overlap on Kingston's Ferrari twice. This is a great -race—perhaps the greatest we shall see this year. Here they are going -into the hairpin. Kingston is skillfully blocking all Randolph's -attempts to pass. He's holding that inside position and has just a -little more speed than the Black Tiger on the straightaway. Now they're -entering bend number five. It looks as though Randolph is going to take -it wide, relying on the cornering ability of the Tiger to take him -around—"</p> - -<p>Woody didn't have to listen to the rest. He saw it. Kingston's Ferrari -hurtled around the bend on the inside with the Black Tiger on its tail. -The big Ferrari skidded for a fraction of a second, picked up traction, -and hurtled down the straightaway.</p> - -<p>But something went wrong with the Black Tiger. The car took the corner -wide, and Woody could see Randy fighting to get control. It looked as -though he was going to hit the telephone pole, but he managed to miss -it by inches. The car came roaring and fishtailing toward the crowd. -People scattered like dust before a heavy gust of wind. Woody caught -a glimpse of the Tiger hitting the shoulder of the road not a hundred -yards from him. Then it leaped into the air, turned slowly on its side, -and hit the ground upside down. It slithered bumping and screaming, -sparks flying from it, and the wheels spinning, for fifty yards before -it came to a standstill.</p> - -<p>Woody was over the snow fence before anybody could stop him. Flagmen -appeared is if by magic, waving the red accident flags. Woody was -conscious that several cars flashed by, slowing down near him, but he -had no eyes for them. He ran to the Black Tiger, which lay beside the -track, its wheels still spinning in the air.</p> - -<p>"Randy," he shouted, "Randy."</p> - -<p>"Get back," somebody yelled at him and pulled him by the shoulder. -Woody yanked himself savagely free and grabbed the side of the Black -Tiger, attempting to right it. Several other men came to help. Together -they got the Tiger back on its wheels. Randy was in the driver's seat, -but his shape was all wrong. One hand was nothing but a red hunk of -meat. It lay on his safety belt, and it was obvious that he had been -fumbling with it. Blood dripped quietly from it onto his pants. He was -slumped sideways beside the steering wheel but in such a way as to -suggest that his back was broken. His head lay on the seat, and his -face turned up toward them.</p> - -<p>He looked at Woody and attempted a smile, but coughed instead. A little -pink foam came to his lips.</p> - -<p>"Brakes," he said and closed his eyes.</p> - -<p>The ambulance was there in a second, and everybody hustled away to -make room for the ambulance attendant. Woody stayed as near as he was -allowed and saw a doctor bend over Randy. When the doctor stood up, -he didn't say anything. He just shook his head and got back into the -ambulance.</p> - -<p>Then Woody knew that Randy was dead. The Black Tiger had killed him.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>14</h2> - - -<p>In the weeks that followed Randy's death, nobody made any mention of -road racing or the Black Tiger around Worm's garage. There was a tacit -understanding that both topics should be ignored. Woody worked harder -than ever at his job and tried to put both subjects out of his mind. He -saw Rocky only at the funeral, and then she went back to San Diego to -live with an aunt. Woody did not know what happened to the Black Tiger. -And he hoped he would never hear of it or see it again.</p> - -<p>Worm made only one comment on the fatal accident that killed Randy. -"Yon Black Tiger is a killer car," he said to Woody. "I told Randy so -and tried to warn him against racing it. But he was no a man that ye -could warn."</p> - -<p>It was not, however, as easy to get away from road racing as Woody -hoped. When he went into a drugstore for a hamburger, he found himself -eying the road-racing magazines. When he bought a newspaper, the sports -pages with their columns on road racing had an irresistible fascination -for him. He did not want to look at them. Yet he found that he could -not refrain from doing so. Names seemed to leap out of the pages at -him—Tom Wisdom, Kurt Kreuger, Dave Kingston. It was strange how out of -several thousand printed words on a page, one word would stand out as -if it were printed in a different color.</p> - -<p>A week after Randy's death, Woody called up Mary Jane and asked her for -a date. She sounded neither cold nor very friendly on the phone, and -said she was doing nothing that night. Woody asked her out to dinner. -When he called for her, he began to realize how much he had missed her. -It seemed as if he had been only a portion of himself and now he was -made whole again. They spent a pleasant evening, not saying anything -about what was past or about any plans for the future. It seemed as if -the two of them just wanted to enjoy the present for the moment.</p> - -<p>Mary Jane seemed much more grown up to Woody that evening. She talked -neither of Somerset Maugham nor of boys she'd been out with while they -were quarreling. Woody felt peaceful while he was with her for the -first time in many weeks. When he went home, he slept well, and the -following day was whistling at his work and much more his old self.</p> - -<p>Worm noticed the change and was pleased by it. He was not a man to pry -into others' affairs, but he had been worried about Woody, toward whom -he adopted an attitude part father and part elder brother.</p> - -<p>For the next month things went smoothly in this fashion, and Woody -almost managed to forget about road racing and the unconquered fears -with which the whole subject filled him.</p> - -<p>Then one day the telephone rang, and when he answered it Rocky was on -the line.</p> - -<p>"Hi, Woody," she said. "How have you been?"</p> - -<p>"Pretty good," Woody replied. "How are things with you?"</p> - -<p>"Just fine now that—now that everything's settled. I called you up -because I just had some wonderful news. Guess what?"</p> - -<p>"What?" said Woody and he felt curiously ill at ease.</p> - -<p>"The Italian factory that made the Black Tiger had a representative -over here to look at Daddy's car. You know there are only three of them -in the world. They were worried about the two accidents"—she hurried -over the words—"because they gave the car a bad name. You know people -have been saying that the car's a killer, and nobody can be found to -drive it. Anyway, they've offered to pay the expenses of repairing -the Black Tiger, and they'll provide all the new parts needed and -everything if someone will race it again over here."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Woody, trying to keep the dismay out of his voice.</p> - -<p>"Daddy really believed in that car," Rocky continued. "He said it was -the finest he'd ever seen in all the time he'd been driving. I thought -that since you'd worked with him on it that you'd like to know the news -right away."</p> - -<p>"Gee," said Woody. "I'm sure glad to hear it. Let me know if they find -a driver, huh? Maybe Tom Wisdom. He was a friend of your father's."</p> - -<p>"No," said Rocky. "I asked Tom. But he has the same opinion of the -Black Tiger as the others. He says it's a killer—too unorthodox a -design to be raced safely. Kurt Kreuger says the same. He won't touch -it. But I'll find somebody. Of course, there are lots of people who -would do it, but they haven't got the kind of driving flair that the -car needs. Anyway, I'll let you know if anything happens."</p> - -<p>She sounded a little disappointed.</p> - -<p>"Thanks," said Woody and hung up.</p> - -<p>"Who was that?" Worm asked when he put down the phone.</p> - -<p>"Rocky," replied Woody. "They're fixing up the Black Tiger, and they're -going to race her again."</p> - -<p>Worm gave him a queer look. "Come into the office," he said. "I've -something I want to tell ye. And I might as well tell ye noo."</p> - -<p>When they were inside Worm's tiny office and Worm had lit a cigarette, -he took a long hard drag at it, examined the glowing end, and addressed -himself to the smoldering cigarette rather than to Woody.</p> - -<p>"Ye may have been wondering," he said, "for ye are a noticing body, -how it was I came to know Randy so well mony years ago. And ye may -have heard some remarks pass between us that made nae sense tae ye at -the time. Ye'll recall, nae doot, that the first time he came tae the -garage here to ask me tae work on his pit crew, he said that that was -something I had tae face and I'd do better tae face it wi' me friends."</p> - -<p>Woody nodded but said nothing.</p> - -<p>"Weel," said Worm, "the fact o' the matter is that many years ago, -before ye were born likely, Randy and I were both racing drivers over -there in Europe. We raced against each other in the Tourists' Trophy -in Ireland and in the Le Mans in France and sometimes in road races -that took us frae the Channel ports tae the toe of Italy and back. -Clean across the Alps, mind ye, on narrow roads, twisting and curving, -through the passes, wi' snow all aroond, and sometimes ye couldna' see -tae the end o' yere headlight beam.</p> - -<p>"Ah weel, that was when I was young and foolish. Well, there came a -time when I was approached by a Swiss company tae race a new car for -them in the Le Mans. 'Twas a car ye probably never heard of, for they -don't make it any more. 'Twas called an Albinet."</p> - -<p>Woody shook his head. The name was completely strange to him.</p> - -<p>"Well, 'tis as I thought. Few these days have ever heard of the -Albinet, though at the time 'twas the wonder car of the year. Like that -Black Tiger noo.</p> - -<p>"No tae make too long a tale of it, I agreed tae drive the car, and -Randy was in the race too, driving a Bugatti if I remember right.</p> - -<p>"Now I don't know if you know anything about the Le Mans. 'Tis held -in the city of Le Mans in France, and the roads are blocked off tae -form the track. The race is laid down through the streets of the city, -and there's every kind of a turn and twist and hill and blind corner -and every kind of surface ye can think of to be negotiated. 'Tis a -twenty-four-hour race. There's cobbles in some parts and asphalt in -others and concrete and all the rest. And sometimes it's raining and -sometimes it's dry, so ye've never seen a race like the Le Mans over -here, and I hope ye never will.</p> - -<p>"I mind I was third on the eightieth lap. There was a Frenchman ahead -of me in a Hispano-Suiza and a German in the lead with a Mercedes-Benz. -Randy was on my tail, and we were going hell for leather down a cobbled -hill with a wall on one side all covered wi' sandbags and houses on the -other. At the bottom of the hill there was a sharp right turn and then -a sharp turn to the left and up another hill.</p> - -<p>"The trick was to change doon and brake hard, drift aroond the first -corner, regain traction on the second, and on your way.</p> - -<p>"The crowd was as thick as flies along the sandbags lining the wall as -I came roaring down the hill. I hit my brakes to change doon, and my -foot went tae the floor. The brakes had failed. I was doing a hundred -and ten down the cobbled hill when I passed the Italian and tried to -make the turn tae the right. The car swung around like an ice skater -and hit one of the sandbags. I got doon on the floor and Randy piled -intae me. There were five cars in that wreck, and three of the drivers -were killed. Four people who were watching from the sandbags died too. -Randy lost his foot.</p> - -<p>"After that, I swore I'd never race again. And I never have. Randy -tried tae get me back driving. He said if I didn't go back I'd be a -beaten man all me life. Well, maybe I am a beaten man. But to this day -I canna' look at a racing car without being filled wi' mortal fear. -When I agreed tae go wi' you and Steve tae the technical inspection, I -was trying tae get over some of that fear. I thought it might have left -me. But it hadn't. And when I agreed tae work in the pit wi' Randy, it -was for the same reason.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry now I did. Randy would hae been killed, nae doot. But -I'd have had no part in it." He paused and flicked the butt of his -cigarette deftly into a bucket of water.</p> - -<p>"Ye'll be wondering why I'm telling ye all this, nae doot," he said. -"Weel, it's on account of yon Black Tiger. Mark my words, they'll no -find any racing driver wi' any experience that'll undertake tae handle -her. Yon car's a killer as I said before. I'm thinking that they'll be -asking you. Ye drive well. I've watched ye. Ye drive like I used tae -drive when I was racing. I've looked at ye going roond the track and -seen meself twenty years ago.</p> - -<p>"But dinna make the mistake I made—Randy too. Dinna' go on wi' yere -driving until ye've killed seven people just because ye wanted tae -drive a new car first past the finish line.</p> - -<p>"I'll never forget those people, laddie. Never. And I've a horror of -racing now that won't leave me until I've drawn my last breath."</p> - -<p>Woody now understood fully Worm's strange reaction to the Black Tiger -and his reluctance to be associated with road racing in any way. But -there was something else he wanted to know. He remembered how Randy, -over dinner, had told him that road racing condensed all the challenges -of life into a few minutes. He recalled Randy's saying that all drivers -were scared but if a man gave way to fear he would be beaten for the -rest of his life.</p> - -<p>"Tell me, Worm," he said. "Did you quit racing because of the -accident—because of the people you killed though it was not your -fault? Or did you quit because you were scared of getting killed -yourself? Because you didn't want to take any more chances."</p> - -<p>"'Twas the people," said Worm, slowly.</p> - -<p>"But they knew the risk they were taking when they came to watch the -race," Woody persisted. "They knew a car might get out of control. Yet -they came and sat on top of the sandbags."</p> - -<p>Worm made no comment on this for a while. He got up moodily from his -seat and looked out of the window. "Randy told me that mony a time," -he said. "If I face the matter squarely, I quit because I was afraid." -The sentence was uttered in almost a whisper.</p> - -<p>"I've been afraid ever since," said Worm. Woody felt a deep compassion -for him.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>15</h2> - - -<p>Worm's forecast that Woody would be asked to drive the Black Tiger was -not long in coming true. A week after her telephone call, Rocky dropped -in to see him. She drove into the garage in her MG, and although Worm -was delighted to see the daughter of his old friend, it was plain that -he was worried too.</p> - -<p>"Mind what I told ye," he said privately to Woody. "Dinna' let her talk -ye into driving yon Black Tiger. It's nae worth the risk."</p> - -<p>Woody and Rocky went to dinner and then for a drive and a talk. For -a while nothing was said about the Black Tiger, though Woody knew -very well that that was the object of the visit. Rocky was apparently -waiting for Woody to bring up the subject, and he was determined that -he wouldn't.</p> - -<p>Eventually she brought it up herself.</p> - -<p>"The Black Tiger is being completely overhauled and repaired," she -said. "It will be ready to race again soon. The factory sent a man over -to supervise the work. They installed a completely new brake system. -The factory man said the car had been dropped on the way over, and that -was why the steering knuckle broke and also why the brakes went out. -There was just the tiniest rupture in the master cylinder, but with the -constant braking during two races the rupture widened and the fluid -drained out."</p> - -<p>"Gee, I'm glad to hear they found the trouble and the car is being -fixed," Woody said.</p> - -<p>"We haven't been able to get a driver," Rocky continued. "I'd drive it -myself, but it wouldn't be the same thing. They have special races for -women, as you know, and to prove its worth the Black Tiger has to be -driven in a man's race."</p> - -<p>Woody made no reply to this other than to grunt.</p> - -<p>"It's the old trouble," Rocky went on. "The car has got the reputation -of being a killer. Nobody wants to risk driving it because it's so new. -But it isn't a killer at all. I believe what Randy used to say. No cars -are killers. New ones may have bugs in them that have to be found out. -But that's been true of every car ever designed. Racing finds out the -troubles and provides better and safer cars for people to drive.</p> - -<p>"Lots of safety features on automobiles today were developed out of -experience gained in road racing," she continued. "Four-wheel brakes -are one of them. So are rear-vision mirrors and better tires. More -people are driving with safety belts on long trips, and that's saving -a lot of lives. In the early days of racing, Daddy told me, fly-wheels -used to explode and kill drivers. But who ever heard of a flywheel -exploding these days? Racing drivers showed how to make better ones. -Every time there's an accident on a track, people say that road -racing should be banned or that a particular car is a killer. But the -automobile industry would not be where it is today if it wasn't for -road racing."</p> - -<p>Still Woody said nothing. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his -stomach because he knew what was coming. The palms of his hands -felt moist, and he could feel his heart beating faster. He tried to -temporize.</p> - -<p>"Why was Randy so interested in the Black Tiger?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Because he said it was way ahead of any other racing car yet -designed," Rocky replied. "The factory is planning to put out a small -family car based on the Black Tiger engine. It would give about fifty -miles to a gallon of gas, could be driven in any climate because the -engine is air-cooled. That means no radiator to overheat in summer or -freeze in winter. And it would sell for less than a thousand dollars. -But all that depends on the Black Tiger being shown to be an efficient -engine and chassis design.</p> - -<p>"Daddy never said anything to me about it. But I found out through his -will that he had put all his savings into the project. He believed -in the Black Tiger that much. He used to say he'd spent all his life -looking for a perfect automobile and had found it in the Black Tiger. -Now his life's work will be wrecked unless we can find someone to drive -the Tiger." She looked across at Woody, hesitated, and then said.</p> - -<p>"Daddy was very fond of you. He told me that you'd make a great racing -driver someday. He said you had a natural flair for it, and the sort of -courage that it takes. Woody, I hate to ask you, knowing the reputation -the Black Tiger has. I'm only asking because so much of Randy's hopes -were tied up in the car. Will you race it—not for me but for him? For -all he did for automobile racing and design?"</p> - -<p>Woody had his answer ready, but he couldn't get it out. It seemed -to him that Randy was nearby and hanging on his answer. He wanted to -say no. He wanted to say that he, too, believed the Black Tiger was a -man-killer. He wanted to break down and confess that he was scared to -death every time he raced a car and that fear, heavy as a shroud, clung -to him through every moment of a race. But he could not get the words -out of his mouth.</p> - -<p>"I'll have to think about it, Rocky," he said feebly.</p> - -<p>Rocky brightened immediately. "Woody," she exclaimed, "you're -wonderful." And she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.</p> - -<p>"I haven't said yes," Woody said hurriedly.</p> - -<p>"I didn't expect you to answer right away," replied Rocky. "I know you -have to talk to your mother and father. But if you explain everything -to them, I know they will agree."</p> - -<p>"Worm warned me not to race the Tiger," Woody said. Rocky frowned.</p> - -<p>"Did he tell you about himself yet?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Daddy always felt bad about Worm," Rocky went on, slowly. "He believed -up to the last that all Worm had to do was turn around and face his -fear and he would be happy again. He's not happy now, you know. That's -why Daddy got him in his pit crew and brought the Black Tiger to his -garage for tuning. It wasn't really that he couldn't get the tuning -done anywhere else. He thought if he could get Worm back into racing, -he would get over his fears. Daddy was always doing things like that -for people without their knowing it. He used to say that fear was just -a continuing sense of shock. It could be cured, he thought, if faced."</p> - -<p>Rocky didn't know how deeply these words affected Woody. He felt that -Randy was talking to him; that Randy knew the struggle in his mind and -was trying to sort it out for him. He could almost hear the bright, -gallant voice, not blaming him but understanding and trying to help him -get over his own fears.</p> - -<p>"When do you think you'll know whether you can drive the Tiger?" Rocky -asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, in about a week," Woody replied.</p> - -<p>"Whatever your answer," Rocky said, "I'll always be grateful to you. -The others just said no. You at least are willing."</p> - -<p>That evening Woody bitterly regretted that he also had not given a -flat no to Rocky's request. If he had done so, it would be settled and -he would have been saved a lot of mental and emotional turmoil. When -he got home he found his father was out of town on business and would -not be back for two or three days. Woody would have liked to talk to -his father about driving the Black Tiger in the hope that he would be -forbidden to race. That would solve the matter by putting the blame for -the decision on someone else. Woody didn't feel exactly comfortable at -that thought but was looking for a way to escape making the decision -himself.</p> - -<p>It was no good talking to Worm. Worm would only insist that he refuse -to drive the Black Tiger. And Worm was really in the same position in -regard to racing as himself. If Tom Wisdom or any of the other drivers -he'd met had been around, he would have consulted them for their views. -But Woody didn't know where they lived and had no way of finding out.</p> - -<p>In the end, desperate for someone to talk his problem over with, Woody -took it to Mary Jane. He didn't really think she could help him with -it. He already knew her views on road racing. But at least she was -someone to talk to. He was too ashamed to unburden himself to Steve.</p> - -<p>To his surprise, Mary Jane's reaction was quite different from what he -had expected. He told her everything, not sparing his own feelings in -any way. Though he blushed while doing so, he confessed that he was -scared of racing and had many times missed chances on the track through -sheer fear. He said he had been afraid even to talk of his fear and -now was in the predicament of being asked to drive the Black Tiger. He -confessed that he was mortally afraid of doing it and also afraid of -refusing, both because of his reputation and what it might do to his -morale.</p> - -<p>Mary Jane didn't interrupt once while he was talking. When he had -finished, she said:</p> - -<p>"Woody Hartford, you're the most mixed-up person I ever met. There's -nothing for you to do but drive the Black Tiger. I'm surprised you -can't see that yourself."</p> - -<p>"What?" cried Woody, amazed.</p> - -<p>"Look," Mary Jane continued. "You know how I hated the way you were -always spending time and money on Cindy Lou. I still don't see that -it's important for one driver to prove he can go faster than another. -And I don't see that it's important for people to keep building faster -cars. If you were going to drive the Black Tiger just to show that it -would go faster than those Ferraris or what-nots, I'd tell you not to -be so silly.</p> - -<p>"But that's no longer the reason. The reason now is to show that you've -got the courage to drive the car even though you're afraid of it. -That's a very important reason. It's much more important than all that -stuff about developing safer cars and so on.</p> - -<p>"You've just got to drive the Black Tiger. That's all there is to it. -Otherwise you won't be Woody Hartford any more. And the person I'm -interested in is Woody Hartford."</p> - -<p>Woody was stunned.</p> - -<p>"You really mean you think I should drive it?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Certainly. I wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you if you -didn't. If I was afraid of it, I'd drive it. You don't have to win. All -you've got to do is try to win and show that you're prepared to take -the same chances that other drivers in the race accept.</p> - -<p>"I used to say that all your interest in racing and racing cars was -juvenile. So it was. All you were interested in then was the speed and -the roar of the engines and the glamour. But now it isn't juvenile at -all. You're growing up. If you race the Black Tiger, it will show that -you've grown up enough to be called a man.</p> - -<p>"And," Mary Jane concluded, "when I get married, I want it to be to a -<i>man</i>, even if he does have to spend the rest of his life in greasy -overalls."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>16</h2> - - -<p>The biggest opposition to Woody's driving the Black Tiger came from -Worm. Woody had thought that both his mother and father would be dead -set against it. They did not, indeed, welcome the prospect. Woody -decided to tell his father about it when they were alone and again to -explain all his reasons fully. When he had finished Mr. Hartford said, -"Woody, is this what has been on your mind all the time?"</p> - -<p>"More or less," Woody replied.</p> - -<p>"I see why you didn't feel you could discuss it with me. In any case, -discussion is rather futile. There are some things people just have to -decide by themselves and this is one of them. I don't pretend that I -like the idea of your driving that car. I wish there was some honorable -way out of it. But there isn't. You'd better let me tell your mother, -though. I think I can explain the situation better than you.</p> - -<p>"This is where being a parent is really tough," he added with a faint -smile. "My whole instinct is to forbid you to race—to protect you from -danger. But I know that would be the wrong thing to do. Son, promise -me that.... Well, I was going to say promise me that you won't take -any unnecessary chances. But that would be silly. Promise me that if -the car shows any serious defects before the race, you will have sense -enough to realize that you don't have to go through with this."</p> - -<p>"I promise," said Woody. "The car will be in perfect mechanical -condition. Otherwise the deal will be off. I'll go over it myself, and -I'll get Worm to help me."</p> - -<p>Worm was furious when Woody told him. His face went white, and for a -while he was unable to say anything. When he did he called Woody a fool -and a lunatic and said he wouldn't have anything to do with the Black -Tiger and would not help Woody in any way.</p> - -<p>"I'll not be a party tae ye killing yere foolish self," he stormed.</p> - -<p>This was a heavy blow. Woody didn't really know enough about the -mechanics of racing cars to check the Tiger over thoroughly. He waited -for Worm to calm down and then decided to tackle him again.</p> - -<p>"Worm," he said, "you don't understand about me and the Black Tiger. -I'd like to explain to you."</p> - -<p>"There's nae explanation for a mon deciding tae drive a car that's -only been in two races and has had an accident each time, other than -lunacy," Worm snapped.</p> - -<p>"Well, maybe it is lunacy," replied Woody. "But Dad doesn't seem to -think so. And neither does Mary Jane."</p> - -<p>"Ye mean tae tell me yer father is going tae let ye drive yon -man-killer?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Woody. "Because I explained the reasons to him."</p> - -<p>"And what might be yere reasons?" Worm demanded.</p> - -<p>"There's only one! I'm afraid. I'm afraid to drive any racing car. I -became afraid the first race I was in when I nearly hit a telephone -pole, and I've been scared ever since. I was even more scared after the -Black Tiger—after Randy was killed in the Black Tiger. And the only -way for me to get my courage back is to drive the car in a race. That's -all."</p> - -<p>When he had finished, Worm's long pale face was a study. He opened his -mouth to say something and then snapped it shut without uttering a -word. He stared at Woody in silence for several seconds and then walked -out of the office where the conversation had taken place. He stayed -away for several minutes, just standing outside the garage with his -thin hands on his hips and staring at his feet. Then he fished for a -cigarette, lit it, took a puff on it, threw it away, and came back into -the office.</p> - -<p>"Gie me yere hand, laddie," he said. "I'm ashamed of meself. Ye've -got more guts than I have, for ye're doing the thing I should have -done meself fifteen years ago. If I'd driven in just one more race -after that accident, I'd have been a happier mon today. Instead, I've -been fifteen years wi' a nightmare. Ah, well. 'Tis never too late tae -mend, they say. I'm wi' ye in this. I'll go over yon Black Tiger wi' -a fine-tooth comb and a magnet. I'll do more than that. I'll take it -out on the desert roads wi' ye and test it meself. I'll corner it and -brake it and pour the coal tae it until I've driven oot any bugs there -are in it meself, or me name is not William Orville Randolph McNess of -Aberdeen.</p> - -<p>"Have ye told yon Rocky that ye'll race the car?"</p> - -<p>"Not yet," said Woody. "She's in San Diego."</p> - -<p>"Weel, get on the phone and tell her noo. Dinna' worry aboot the -charges. I'll stand them meself. The Hieland Scots, ye understand, are -a generous race of people, and 'tis one of the main faults in them."</p> - -<p>When Woody in the next few minutes called Rocky to say he'd drive the -Black Tiger for her, she was jubilant. She said she'd bring the car -up the very next day so that there would be ample time to check it and -test it before the Pebble Beach race, which was the event in which it -would be entered.</p> - -<p>It was not long before the news that the Tiger was to be raced again -reached the sports columns. And Woody found himself a combination of -hero and lunatic over night. One Los Angeles evening paper devoted -half a page to an article and pictures of the Black Tiger. A reporter -interviewed Woody for the story, and the gist of the article was that -Woody was prepared to stake his life to show the car was the fastest -and safest racing machine ever to come into the country.</p> - -<p>Other columnists dredged up stories of other "wonder cars" that had -been wrecked and scrapped as unpractical. Woody was asked to lecture -at the local high school on racing and road safety and was voted by -the Junior Chamber of Commerce as the young citizen most likely to -succeed. Some papers tried to draw a likeness between him and some of -the old-time racing greats like Barney Oldfield, and all in all, he got -more publicity than he ever would have thought likely in his entire -life.</p> - -<p>Worm was as good as his word both in checking and testing the car. -He closed down his garage for a week to devote his time to the Black -Tiger. He crawled all over it, with Davie's <i>Problems and Principles of -Internal Combustion Engines</i> open on the workbench for ready reference. -And then, one Saturday, he and Woody drove the Black Tiger out to a -deserted piece of highway in the Mojave desert to give it a thorough -road test.</p> - -<p>The piece of road selected was an old highway now replaced by a modern -four-lane thoroughfare. Because it was old, and therefore full of -turns and twists, it was ideal for the purpose, and the Highway Patrol -gave permission for the tests to be held.</p> - -<p>The Highway Patrol also co-operated in not saying anything about the -tests, so Woody and Worm had the strip of road, three miles long, -to themselves. They worked out a route, partially on the disused -road, partially across a desert track, so they had a rough circle to -represent a race track.</p> - -<p>"I'll put her through ten laps, laddie, just tae see how she handles," -Worm said. "You stay here and time me wi' the stop watch. It's -aboot three miles aroond, which is average for race tracks here in -California."</p> - -<p>Woody nodded, and Worm got into the driver's seat. His white face -seemed even whiter, but his thin hands were quite steady as he buckled -on his safety belt. Then he put on his crash helmet and adjusted the -goggles over his eyes. He squirmed around in the seat, feeling the -controls with his feet. He switched on the ignition and fired the Black -Tiger up. Woody caught a glimpse of his eyes behind the goggles. They -seemed big, and there was a dullness that suggested fear. Worm turned -his head slowly and looked full at him. Then he gave Woody a wink, made -monstrous by the glass shield of the goggles, took a deep breath, and -let out the clutch.</p> - -<p>The Black Tiger roared into life and shot down the old asphalt road. -Woody grinned. It had been a bigger struggle for Worm, he knew, to -drive the Black Tiger, than it would be for him. And Worm had made it.</p> - -<p>Worm's first two laps were anything but impressive. He seemed to be -driving with such extreme caution that it would not have been difficult -to keep up with him in a much less powerful car. But when Worm passed -Woody for the third time, he took one hand off the steering wheel, -waved, and hit the accelerator. It seemed to Woody as if the Black -Tiger was melting in the sun, it disappeared from view so fast. There -was a corner about two hundred yards from the starting place, and Worm -took this without even skidding his wheels. He reappeared over the top -of a hill and plunged down again, the Tiger roaring its enjoyment of -the game. As he flashed by again, Woody saw that Worm was driving like -Randy used to. He was sitting well back in his seat, almost lolling -there. His hands held the steering wheel in a light grip. And there was -a smile on his thin face.</p> - -<p>Worm did more than ten laps. It was fifteen before he stopped the Black -Tiger, unfastened his safety belt, and climbed out of the seat.</p> - -<p>"How did I do?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Gee," said Woody, "I was so nervous about you that I forgot to use the -stop watch."</p> - -<p>"Nervous about me!" exclaimed Worm. "Why, laddie, I was driving cars -wi' twice the horsepower of yon Black Tiger before ye were born." But -he gave Woody another of his rare winks, and his face was beaming. He -looked, in fact, quite young again.</p> - -<p>It was now Woody's turn, and he got behind the wheel and fastened his -safety belt. "There's nothing wrong wi' her that I can find," said -Worm. "She corners better than any car I've ever handled. The main -thing is tae get the feel of her. Take her aroond slowly at first till -ye know how fast she turns when ye pull the wheel over. Change doon and -try tae make her slide on corners. Find oot when she breaks out of a -slide. Take it easy at first. We've got all day. Make her do what you -want her tae do—not what she wants tae do. That's the whole secret of -driving."</p> - -<p>Woody looked along the low slim hood in front of him and at the -dashboard with its telltale dials. Tachometer. Speedometer. -Oil-pressure gauge. Water-temperature gauge. Gas gauge. Each was a -separate dial. He slipped the gearshift into low and started off.</p> - -<p>His confidence had been restored to some extent by watching Worm, but -he took the first two laps slowly, studying the reactions of the car. -She seemed all power and eagerness. Corners taken at sixty-five miles -an hour on the asphalt didn't bother her. She slipped smoothly in and -out of gear but seemed to be constantly straining to go faster.</p> - -<p>On the fourth lap of the makeshift course, Woody decided to let the -Tiger go all out. He flashed passed Worm, his engine roaring, changed -down at the first corner at the bottom of a dip, was around and over -the top of a small hill before he realized it, and headed down a -quarter mile of straight at the end of which was a right-angle bend -onto the desert strip. Woody hit his brakes, changed down again for the -bend, then stamped hard on the accelerator. The Black Tiger screamed -off the asphalt onto the dirt strip of the desert, broadsided for a -second, righted herself, and was off again.</p> - -<p>Five laps, and Woody felt that he knew the car. He also felt more sure -of himself. There were one or two moments when his old panic threatened -to return. But he managed to fight it down. He did well for eight laps -going full bore around the course. The Black Tiger was certainly all -that Randy had ever said of it. Acceleration in all four gears was -instant and powerful. She cornered without any fuss. He never had to -fight to get her under control after a full power drift around a bend. -One touch of his foot on the accelerator and she came out straight as -an arrow.</p> - -<p>And yet Woody was conscious of being tense all the time. He couldn't -lean back in the seat relaxed like Randy and Worm and become, as they -did, part of the engine. There was a tiny spark of uneasiness and -distrust in the bottom of his mind all the time.</p> - -<p>He was waiting, he knew, for something to go wrong; for the steering -to go out or a tire to blow. He couldn't quite trust the Black -Tiger—couldn't quite shake out of his mind the thought that it was -waiting to spring some unsuspected trap upon him.</p> - -<p>When he was through with the trial runs, Worm said, "Weel, laddie, how -did she handle?"</p> - -<p>"Fine," said Woody. "Fine. I just hope she'll hold together."</p> - -<p>They both looked at the sleek black lines of the car. Even in the hot -desert sun they seemed menacing.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>17</h2> - - -<p>Woody had a bad headache and a strong suspicion that the meager -breakfast he had eaten that morning was not going to stay with him very -long. He wished he could go away somewhere out of the bright, merciless -sunlight and be quietly sick all by himself. It occurred to him that if -there was just half a chance of getting away with it, he'd sneak off -into the crowd on the other side of the snow fence and disappear among -them. But that was impossible. Someone would spot him and he would be -brought back again for the sacrifice.</p> - -<p>For that's exactly what he felt like—a sacrifice that was about to be -offered to a god called the Black Tiger for the edification of a lot of -worshipers who called themselves sports-car fans.</p> - -<p>Woody was sitting on the grass on one side of the starting area of -the Pebble Beach racecourse. Across the track from him was a row of -cars facing outward as if they were in a parking lot. Among them was -the Black Tiger. They all seemed to be grinning malevolently. The -Black Tiger was sixth in line, and there were twenty-two cars in all -drawn up for the Le Mans start of the fifth event. That was the race -to which he was committed—the race in which he was to be given his -chance to recover and demonstrate his courage; the race in which he was -to prove that the Black Tiger was, despite its record of accidents, a -first-class racing machine.</p> - -<p>Woody was glad of one thing. Mary Jane wasn't nearby, nor were his -father and mother, nor Rocky, Steve, nor Worm. His mother and dad -were somewhere in the mass of spectators with Mary Jane. Rocky, -Steve, and Worm were in the pit area forming his pit crew. He was -glad they weren't with him, because in their presence he had to keep -up a pretense of confidence. And right at that moment he hadn't a -hairsbreadth of confidence in his whole body.</p> - -<p>It had been tough trying to hide his fears all morning while four other -races were run. He had become so nervous with everybody wishing him -well and fussing over the car that he could hardly do a simple little -thing like adjust his racing mirrors to get a clear view of his rear -and two rear fenders.</p> - -<p>Worm, he was sure, had noticed that he was nervous. But Worm hadn't -said anything, and Woody was glad. Worm had just busied himself -checking the ignition and the spark-plug gaps and taping the headlights.</p> - -<p>When Rocky had asked him how he felt, he'd replied, in a voice that -didn't sound like his own at all, that he felt fine.</p> - -<p>Then Rocky had suggested that he look over the map of the track. But -try as he would to memorize it, none of the details would stay with -him. He told himself that it didn't matter anyway. He'd had enough -racing experience to know that what the track looked like on paper -wasn't at all what it was like when you drove over it. Turns that -seemed like slow curves turned out to be pretty sharp. And there was no -indication of whether they were banked or not.</p> - -<p>Furthermore, the map of the track didn't have anything to say about -road surfaces. It didn't say anything about trees, and the Pebble -Beach track was studded with trees. There were a lot of hills on it -too, and most of the corners leaped up suddenly at you from behind -a clump of trees or beyond the brow of a hill. That much he learned -from talking to the other drivers. It was, they all agreed, the -most difficult track in Southern California. Or as they put it—the -sportiest.</p> - -<p>Tom Wisdom was sitting beside Woody in the sun, looking at his driving -boots. He had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, but it -had gone out.</p> - -<p>"Got a match?" he said, turning to Woody.</p> - -<p>Woody said he hadn't without even looking through his pockets. He -wished he hadn't been asked. He just wanted to be left alone right at -the present moment.</p> - -<p>"Feeling a little shaky?" Tom asked. His voice was friendly, and he -smiled in a kindly way as he put the question.</p> - -<p>Woody decided to abandon all his pretenses. "I sure am," he said. "If I -could get the heck out of here and disappear for five years into China, -I would."</p> - -<p>Tom laughed. "You wouldn't be alone," he said. "Look at Kurt over -there." Kurt Kreuger was squatted on his heels carefully taking a -cigarette to pieces. Even at a distance of several yards, Woody could -see that his hands were far from steady.</p> - -<p>"Kurt always tears paper when he's keyed up," Tom said. "I smoke -cigarettes that have gone out." He took the dead cigarette from between -his lips, examined it with a smile, and flicked it onto the track.</p> - -<p>"We've three or four minutes yet," he said. "Did you look over the -track?" Woody nodded.</p> - -<p>"It's pretty rough," Tom continued. "But remember, it's just as rough -for the other boys as it is for you. There isn't much I can tell you -at this point that would do any good. But remember, when you jump into -your car, fasten your safety belt. Don't take off without doing that." -He lapsed into silence, got out another cigarette, found an old match -folder with one last match, took a puff or two, and looked down toward -the starter.</p> - -<p>For the next two minutes it seemed to Woody everything around became -very quiet. The row of cars on the opposite side of the track looked as -grim as gladiators about to enter an arena. Woody eyed the Black Tiger, -and in that moment he hated her. She seemed both impersonal and cruel -to him. A cricket started a shrill chirruping in the grass behind him, -and he experienced a sudden flush of irritation at the sound. The sun -beat down bright and merciless on the asphalt before him. The starter -stood talking to two other men. He seemed cheerful and untroubled, and -Woody conceived an enormous dislike of him. Why didn't he just drop his -flag and get it over with? Why stand around there chewing the fat when -everybody was sitting with his nerves on edge?</p> - -<p>The loud-speaker blared suddenly. "One minute to go," the announcer -said. "I'll count out the seconds. Fifty-five. Fifty. Forty-five...."</p> - -<p>It's coming now, Woody said to himself. Just a few seconds more. He -felt suddenly panicky, as if he were paralyzed and wouldn't be able to -run to his car. Kurt Kreuger was still shredding a cigarette.</p> - -<p>"Twenty-five. Twenty. Fifteen," said the announcer. Suddenly it was -time. The big green flag in the starter's hand came down, and Woody -found himself sprinting on wobbly knees over to the Black Tiger. He -was hardly in the seat before a Jag beside him started with a roar -and shot off down the track. He saw Tom Wisdom and Kurt Kreuger take -off while he was still fumbling with his safety belt. Two more cars -roared by, and at last he got the belt fastened. He switched on the -ignition, pressed the starter button, let out the clutch, and roared -away himself. His hands and arms were trembling violently. He wanted to -be sick, and he could hardly see. He denounced himself as a fool for -having ever got into the race. But there was no getting out of it now. -He couldn't call into the pits. He couldn't get out of the car. He had -to go on.</p> - -<p>The first lap Woody did in a kind of nightmare. Turns appeared -unexpectedly before him, and he took them, fighting down a rising -panic. Cars roared by, sometimes on one side and sometimes on the -other, and he let them go. His only concern was to get around as many -times as was necessary and then get out of the Black Tiger and leave it -and never see it again.</p> - -<p>Actually, in the first lap, he lost only two places. In the starting -line-up he had been sixth. At the end of the first lap, he was eighth. -He caught a glimpse of Worm as he passed by the start-finish line after -the first lap. Worm was holding up a blackboard with the figure 8 upon -it. Woody was surprised. He had been sure more cars than that were -ahead of him. The news served to steady him a little. He pushed down -on the accelerator and concentrated on a Mercedes ahead. It was green -and had a big twelve on the back. He could scarcely see the top of the -driver's helmet, and he did not know who he was. But he decided he -would try to pass.</p> - -<p>The distance between the two cars diminished slightly. Woody pressed -the accelerator down farther. The Black Tiger's note changed to a -piercing scream. Woody could feel the car pick up speed, and the -Mercedes seemed to be drawn toward him. Then he saw the tail light -flash red and knew the driver was braking for a corner. Woody touched -his brakes also and in the same moment changed down.</p> - -<p>Something inside of him said, "Now," and the voice sounded like -Randy's. Woody stomped on the accelerator and pulled over to the right. -He went by the Mercedes in a flash and found a sharp corner ahead. He -braked again, changed down to second, and hit the accelerator once -more. The rear end of the Black Tiger slewed around as he turned the -steering wheel. But she straightened out like a champion and was off -down the straightaway in a second. In his rear-vision mirror Woody -caught a glimpse of the Mercedes he had just passed. It was gaining on -him. Ahead was a sharp hill, and he could not remember what was beyond. -He left the car in second and accelerated. The Black Tiger roared, -breasted the top of the hill, and there ahead were three cars in a -huddle, braking for what must be a sharp bend.</p> - -<p>On either side of the track, perhaps ten feet from the shoulder, were -pine trees, with barricades of hay bales among them. There was no room -to get through the cars ahead, and the Mercedes was now pressing on his -tail. Woody braked and skittered around the corner on the heels of the -three cars. Then he saw, just for a second, a gap in them. It was about -a foot wider than the Black Tiger. No more.</p> - -<p>"Here goes," Woody said to himself and opened the throttle. The effect -was as if a jet engine had been added to the Black Tiger's power plant. -She literally leaped through the gap. There was a slight bump, and he -knew that he had touched the rear fender of one of the cars. But other -than that he got away clear. The Mercedes that had been challenging him -was left in the melee of cars he had just passed.</p> - -<p>Ahead now the road was straight but ran over a series of hills. Woody -recalled that stretch and knew that there was perhaps three-quarters of -a mile of it with a series of S-bends, followed by a hairpin at the end.</p> - -<p>"Give her the gun," the voice inside him said again. It was still -Randy's voice. Woody opened the throttle, his foot pressed to the floor -board, and the Black Tiger flung down the track. Woody looked at his -speedometer. One hundred and ten, one hundred and twenty, one hundred -and thirty. He saw a Jag ahead and flashed past so close he could, -for a second, feel the warmth of the other's exhaust. He was doing a -hundred and forty plus when he entered the S-bends and braked down.</p> - -<p>On the first bend, the Black Tiger nearly turned over. She seemed to -crouch over on her side, and Woody's foot slipped off the accelerator. -But then she recovered, veered a little under his unsteady hands at the -wheel, and shot off for the next bend. Woody decided to straighten that -one out. He would cut the corners on it and take the risk that there -might be a car ahead hidden from him. There wasn't a car ahead, but on -the third of the S-bends, which lay just over the top of a hill, there -was one right in the spot he was aiming at.</p> - -<p>Without knowing quite why he did it, Woody changed down to third and, -reacting instinctively, pulled the Black Tiger over and hit the gas. -She went by the car—a Jag—in a cloud of dust.</p> - -<p>Then came the hairpin. If Woody had not changed down on the last S-bend -he would certainly never have made the corner. As it was he had to hit -his brakes until all four wheels screamed their protest. But he managed -to claw around the hairpin.</p> - -<p>The next time he passed the start-finish line he saw Worm again for a -brief flash holding up the blackboard. On it was a big figure 4.</p> - -<p>For the next four laps Woody held his position, neither passing anybody -nor being passed. But he became more familiar with the track. Bends no -longer appeared unexpectedly before him. He found the reason why he had -nearly turned over on the one S-bend before the hairpin. It was banked -in the wrong direction so that the weight of a car cornering on it was -thrown downhill.</p> - -<p>This piece of knowledge tucked into his mind he determined to put to -good use if he could get within passing distance of the Ferrari ahead. -If he could get on the near side of the Ferrari on that S-bend, the -driver would either have to let him by or run the risk of turning over -in making the corner.</p> - -<p>It took him two laps to get into position for the try. All the while -he studied the driver's tactics. He belonged to the close-cornering -school. He went into all his bends as near to the inside as he could, -and only skidded away from that position when he was most of the way -around. If he did that on the first S-bend, he wouldn't be able to do -it on the second, for he would have skidded wide, Woody told himself. -That would give him an opportunity to take over the inside position and -pass.</p> - -<p>The plan worked to perfection. The driver of the Ferrari took the first -S tight in against the corner and went wide for the second. Woody -saw his braking lights flash and a gap just big enough for him to -get through on the inside of the track. It would be there for only a -second. But Woody jammed his foot down hard on the accelerator and shot -through. When he passed Worm again, the figure on the blackboard was 3.</p> - -<p>Now a curious reaction set in. Woody had started the race in panic and -had somehow fought that down, becoming too absorbed in the driving to -think of anything else. But now he thought of Randy. In his two races, -Randy had always done well until he got to second place. Then the Black -Tiger had gone out of control.</p> - -<p>His fears and distrust of the car, which had for a while left him, -began to return, though he fought against them. He knew who was -ahead—Kurt Kreuger in his Jag and Tom Wisdom in his Ferrari. They -were the same two that Randy had been killed trying to pass. Woody's -heart started to pound, and unconsciously he took his foot off the -accelerator. The Black Tiger seemed to slump as if it had hit a patch -of thick glue, there was a loud roar, and the Ferrari, which he had -been at such pains to pass, buzzed by him. He was back to fourth place -again.</p> - -<p>A Mercedes and a Cad-Allard were coming up behind him. Only the fact -that they had to slow down for the corner ahead prevented their passing -him. Woody felt his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The -muscles of his legs seemed to go rigid, and he felt he had no control -over his feet.</p> - -<p>Somehow he got around the corner, and somehow he kept his foot down on -the accelerator when he hit the straightaway, but his heart was not in -it. He was afraid again, and this time he knew the fear was going to -remain. He recalled how he had nearly turned over on the S-bend and -how he had skidded broadside around one corner, and the spirit went out -of him. The Jag passed him easily and so did the Mercedes, the driver -flashing him a puzzled look as he went by.</p> - -<p>Then Randy said something to him—or so it seemed. He said, "Relax. -Lean back. You can't drive all crouched over the wheel." Woody leaned -back against the seat. The feel of it on the back of his shoulders gave -him comfort.</p> - -<p>"You passed those boys before," said Randy's voice. "You can do it -again. Try it on the S-bends. Go full bore and trust to luck. You're -driving a better car than you think."</p> - -<p>The S-bends were ahead, and the three cars were just entering them. -Woody looked at his speedometer. A hundred and twenty-five. He wanted -to brake, then change down, and take the bends more slowly. Instead, he -pressed the accelerator and flung into the first bend as if it wasn't -there.</p> - -<p>He hardly saw the Mercedes as he went by, taking it on the outside. He -was on the inside position on the second bend—the one that was banked -the wrong way. The Jag ahead had flung wide and was trying hard to get -into position. There was a sharp jolt as Woody streaked past it. But -he didn't bother even to look in his rear-vision mirror. He was fourth -again. There were three cars ahead, and he knew now that he could pass -them. Or rather he knew that he wouldn't hold back from trying. He -couldn't explain why it was that his panic had left. It was there in -full force a few minutes ago, and now there was not a vestige of it. -Instead he was leaning back against the seat. His hands and legs were -steady. His brain was clear, and his emotions were under control. His -only desire was to go faster and drive better.</p> - -<p>"I think I'm going to make it, Randy," he said.</p> - -<p>"Never doubted it for a moment," was the reply.</p> - -<p>By the fifteenth lap Woody had won back to third position again. Kurt -had pulled ahead of Tom Wisdom. Woody had a warm feeling for the two -of them. He experienced a warm feeling, too, for the Black Tiger. The -roar of her engine, which before had frightened him, now made his -heart sing. He loved the way she handled and her enormous gallantry on -corners.</p> - -<p>He knew that she had it in her to win the race, and he was ashamed that -he had penalized her with his own fears.</p> - -<p>The last two laps were, for everybody, the most exciting of the race. -On the straightaway approaching the hairpin, Woody drew wheel to wheel -with Tom Wisdom who looked briefly at him and winked. But Tom wasn't -giving anything. He hugged the corner tight—so tight that Woody had to -follow him around, for it was too sharp to take wide. Woody drew ahead -briefly approaching the right-angle bend after the start-finish line. -But he was not sufficiently ahead to pull over and crowd Tom behind -him. They took the corner wheel to wheel, but since Woody was on the -outside, Tom was slightly ahead when they got around it. Woody had -only one more chance to pass—on the S-bends where he had made most of -his conquests. But Tom knew those S-bends even better than Woody did. -He never gave the Black Tiger a chance. And when the checkered finish -flag fluttered down before them, it was Kurt Kreuger first, Tom Wisdom -second, and Woody Hartford third.</p> - -<p>Rocky was first to greet him when he returned to the pit. "You were -wonderful," she said. "Wonderful. Daddy always said you'd make a great -driver." And she flung her arms around him and gave him a kiss.</p> - -<p>Worm somehow got hold of Woody's hand and kept pumping it up and down.</p> - -<p>"I knew what was happening, laddie," he said. "For my money, ye won the -race."</p> - -<p>When he got free of Rocky and Worm it was to find Mary Jane standing -by the car. She didn't say anything. She just smiled and looked very -proud.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>18</h2> - - -<p>That night a victory dinner was held at a hotel in Monterey where the -dining room had been taken over for the occasion. Woody, Mary Jane, -Worm, Rocky, Steve, and Woody's parents attended. It was something of a -battle to get into the hotel, for all the drivers who had participated -in the race were there. There were perhaps three hundred cars crowded -into the parking lot and lining the adjoining streets. The city, in -fact, became a racing center for the night, and radio and television -men were covering the event in full force.</p> - -<p>Tom Wisdom and Kurt Kreuger both grabbed hold of Woody as he entered -the hotel lobby.</p> - -<p>"You're coming with us," they said, and they dragged him off to a -seat at the head table. The Mayor presided at the banquet, and there -were officials of the state government and a number of sports-car -organizations. Woody couldn't remember how many people he was -introduced to by Tom Wisdom, who had taken him under his wing.</p> - -<p>"You drove the finest race I've seen in a long time," Tom said. "Kurt -and I are both agreed on that. Right before the start, to be honest, -I didn't know whether you were going to make it. But you came through -like a veteran. You had me plenty worried those last few laps."</p> - -<p>"I had the willies all right," Woody confessed.</p> - -<p>"Say, Kurt," said Tom. "What were you doing right before the race -tearing up all those cigarettes?"</p> - -<p>"Me?" said Kurt surprised. "I wasn't tearing up any cigarettes, was I?"</p> - -<p>"You sure were."</p> - -<p>"Well, if I was, I didn't know about it. But right before the start I'd -made up my mind that this was the last race I was ever going to drive -in. That's how I felt."</p> - -<p>"How do you feel now?"</p> - -<p>"Right now," said Kurt, "I think that was the silliest decision I ever -made in my life."</p> - -<p>The Mayor presented Kurt with the trophy for first place—a cup of -such proportions that Worm said afterward it was big enough to boil -a haggis in. When Kurt had accepted it and expressed his thanks, he -paused for a minute, looked around the room, and said, "Most of you -people here tonight are drivers or mechanics or fans who are interested -in sports-car racing. It's a new sport in the United States, but it is -rapidly developing to the point where it's becoming a national sport. -Its long-range results will be better cars, with more safety features -and better drivers.</p> - -<p>"Some of you guys, like me, have been in the game a long time. We -know that it isn't the winner who makes the race. It's all the other -competitors who are in there trying to win and their mechanics who put -in a lot of unpaid work fixing up their cars. It takes just as much -guts to lose a race as it does to win one. What I'm trying to say is -that it's the effort that matters and the courage that goes into it. -Not the result.</p> - -<p>"In this connection, I think there's one driver here tonight who is -more entitled to this trophy than I. Before I mention his name, I'll -tell you something about him. He's a pretty young guy, and he's been -racing something less than a year.</p> - -<p>"He didn't drive any well-known make of car. In fact, the car he drove -had a hundred per cent accident record. It had been on the track only -twice before. The first time its steering went out. The second time the -brakes failed and the driver, Jimmy Randolph, was killed.</p> - -<p>"Randy believed in that car, and a lot of us were asked to race it -after his death. I was one of the people asked, and I refused. I -refused because I didn't trust it, and I believed that it might crack -up again. A lot of the rest of us turned the car down for the same -reasons.</p> - -<p>"But one guy didn't turn it down. He probably had the same doubts and -fears to overcome that we had. But he had the guts to put them aside -and drive the car anyway.</p> - -<p>"He drove a magnificent race, despite his inexperience. And he brought -a great new car to American tracks. It's hardly necessary for me now to -identify either the car or the driver. But I will do so anyway. The car -is the Black Tiger and the driver, Woody Hartford—"</p> - -<p>If Kurt was going to say any more, he didn't get a chance for fully -ten minutes. Cheer after cheer filled the banquet room, and Tom and -another man on Woody's left picked him up and stood him upon a chair -for everyone to see. Woody's legs were trembling again, but this time -he didn't care.</p> - -<p>When some order was finally restored, Kurt continued. "Just before this -banquet," he said, "without Woody's knowing anything about it, some -of the other drivers and I had a meeting with the track officials and -those who donated this trophy. We all agreed that while I might have -won it by being first, the guy who really deserves to get it is young -Woody Hartford. So come right over here, Woody, and take this trophy, -for it really belongs to you."</p> - -<p>Woody got down shakily from the chair and took the trophy. He didn't -know what to say, and for five minutes he didn't have to say anything -for the cheering went on for that time. When finally there was enough -silence for him to make himself heard, all he could get out was, "Gee. -Thanks."</p> - -<p>Kurt took the microphone back again. "I think Woody has a lot more to -say than that," he said. "But right at the present time, his clutch is -slipping. So we'll let him off. We know how he feels anyway.</p> - -<p>"Just one more piece of news and then I'll sit down. Most of you older -drivers remember a great racing driver who was a friend of Randy's in -the old days. His name is William Orville Randolph McNess, commonly -known as Worm.</p> - -<p>"Those who knew Worm ten or fifteen years ago know that he's been -fighting a private battle of his own. I won't go into the details. -All I want to say is that between Randy, Woody, and the Black Tiger, -Worm seems to have won that battle. At least I heard him cautiously -inquiring the price of an XK140 Jag, and I'll be very surprised if at -the next event, we don't have to contend with him as well as young -Woody."</p> - -<p>There was another outburst of cheering at this announcement and Worm's -back was thoroughly pummeled to an impromptu chorus of "He's a Jolly -Good Fellow."</p> - -<p>When it was all over, Woody and Worm met outside beside the Black -Tiger. Worm patted it affectionately.</p> - -<p>"Tae think," he said, "that I called ye a man-killer."</p> - -<p>"You should have called it a man-maker instead," said Mary Jane coming -up out of the darkness.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK TIGER ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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