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SPEED FEVERCHAPTER IRACE BANDAGESBRAKE-SHOES squealed wildly in their drums, and the short tail of the racing car swung into a slashing skid as Jim Ryan wrenched on the spring-spoked steering-wheel.For three yards the machine slithered broadside, then checked. Grey dust lifted like smoke around the black tyres, as Jim peered over the edge of the rounded scuttle at the girl who had been saved only by his instinctive action.She stood now with her back pressed against the rough stone wall which bordered one side of the narrow French lane, her eyes wide and a little scared." I'mI'm sorry ! " she gasped. Jim heard her voice clearly because, in the sudden stop, he had stalled his roaring engine. He grinned as