"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.