"There is no other way. I have been wrong and I have no control over you; will you come home?" There was no other argument but that that could have succeeded, and the three who knew Lestrange knew that could not fail. "You want me because I am a Ffrench," David rebelled in the final protest. "You have a substitute." "Perhaps I want you otherwise. And we will not speak in passion; there can be no substitute for you." "Ffrench and Ffrench," murmured Dick coaxingly. "We can run that factory, Lestrange!" "There's more than steering-knuckles needing your eye on them. And you love the place, Mr. David," said Bailey from his corner. From one to the other David's glance went, to rest on Emily's delicate, earnest face in its setting of yellow-bronze curls. Full and straight her dark eyes answered his, the convent-bred Emily's answer to his pride and old resentment and new reluctance to yield his liberty. "After all, you were born a Ffrench," she reminded, her soft accents just audible. "If that is your work?" Very slowly David turned to his father. "I never learned to do things by halves," he said. "If you want me, sir--" And Ethan Ffrench understood, and first offered his hand. Rupert was discovered asleep in a camp-chair outside the tent, a few minutes later, when Dick went in search of him. "The limousine's waiting," his awakener informed him. "You don't feel bad, do you?" The mechanician rose cautiously, wincing. "Well, if every joint in my chassis wasn't sore, I'd feel better," he admitted grimly. "But I'm still running. What did you kiss me awake for, when I need my sleeps?" "Did you suppose we could get Lestrange home without you, Jack Rupert?" "I ain't supposing you could. I'm ready." The rest of the party were already in the big car, with one exception. "Take a last look, Rupert," bade David, as he stood in the dark paddock. "We're retired; come help me get used to it." Rupert passed a glance over the deserted track. "I guess my sentiment-tank has given out," he sweetly acknowledged. "The Mercury factory sounds pretty good to me, Darling. And I guess we can make a joy ride out of living, on any track, if we enter for it." "I guess we can," laughed David Ffrench. "Get in opposite Emily. We're going home to try." THE END