This is one continuous joy ride from the trial heat of the opening chapters to the exciting race at the conclusion. The speed never slackens and one turns the pages breathlessly. The story keeps pace throughout with the fast flying machines it depicts, whether a five-cylinder racer on the track, the huge touring car on the highway, or amid the bustle and confusion of the factory where the flyers are being built. Against this background of drivers, mechanicians, gasoline and grime, a beautiful love story unfolds itself.
"He slipped on a greasy bit of grass, ten minutes ago, and sprained his ankle. We're out of it, with third place ours and a perfect car to run."
Gerard looked down the row of illuminated tents to where the pink car stood, palpitating in an aura of its own light, and brought his eyes back to the other man.
"My machine went out of the race, two hours ago, with a broken crankshaft. If you like, I'll be your alternate," he offered.
Incredulous, breathless, Rose stared at him.
"I will drive your car until you are ready to take it again for the finish. I've nothing else to do, to-night."
It was a time and a scene where over-tense nerves not infrequently snapped. But if Gerard was not surprised to see it, Rose certainly was both amazed and humiliated to feel his own eyes suddenly stinging like a girl's.
"If ever I can do anything for you," he stammered fervently.
"I'll give you the chance," promised Gerard, tactfully