In silence, broken only by the low song of the motor as it voiced its joy in the widening license to show its power, the two men took the wind in their faces as the car shot down the road, at the moment a clear highway for them. King had snatched off his hat, and his dark hair blew wildly about his forehead, while his eyes watched the way as intently as if he had been driving himself, though his body hardly tensed, so complete was his confidence in the steady hands on the wheel. Faster and faster flew the car, until the speed indicator touched a mark seldom passed by King himself at his most reckless moments. His lips, set at first, broke into a smile as the pointing needle circled the dial, and his eyes, if any could have seen them, would have told the relief there was for him in escape by flight, though only temporary, from the grinding pull of monotony and disablement. At the turn ahead appeared obstruction, and Burns was obliged to begin slowing down. When the car was again at its ordinary by no means slow pace, King spoke: "Bless you for a mind reader! That was bully, and blew away a lot of distemper. If you'll just do it again going back I'll submit to the afternoon of a clam in a bed of mud." "Good. We'll beat that record going back, if we break the speedometer. Racing with time isn't supposed to be the game for a convalescent, but I'm inclined to think it's the dose you need, just the same. I expect, Jord, that the first time you pull on a pair of rubber boots and go to climbing around a big concrete dam somewhere your heart will break for joy." "My heart will stand anything, so that it's action." "Will it? I thought it might be a bit damaged. It's had a good deal of reaction to stand lately, I'm afraid." There was silence for a minute, then King spoke: "Red, you're a wizard." "Not much of a one. It doesn't take extraordinary powers of penetration to guess that a flame applied to a bundle of kindling will cause a fire. And when you keep piling on the fuel something's likely to get burned." "Did I pile on the fuel?" "You sure did. If there had been gunpowder under the kindling you could have expected an explosion--and a wreck." "There's no wreck." "No? I thought there might be--somewhere." King spoke quickly. "Do you think I carried it too far?" "I think you carried it some distance--for an invalid's diversion." The young man flushed hotly. "I was genuinely interested and I saw no harm. If there's any harm done it's to myself, and I can stand that. I'm not conceited enough to imagine that a broken-backed cripple could make any lasting impression." Burns turned and surveyed his companion with some amusement. "Do you consider that a description of yourself?" "I certainly do." Jordan King's strong young jaw took on a grim expression. "Know this then"--Burns spoke deliberately--"there's not a sane girl who liked you well enough before your accident to marry you who wouldn't marry you now."