CHAPTER XIX
AN EXCITING RUN
AN EXCITING RUN
AN EXCITING RUN
Wiley had shouted the joke so loudly that those in the forward car heard him, and it was repeated to Chance Avery. As Dan swerved to the left a bit, preparatory to running out beside Burton Poole’s car, Chance glanced around. They could not see him scowl, for his mask and goggles covered his face.
But it was plain that the captain of the Riverdale Club was not going to be beaten so easily. He forced the Poole car ahead, and Dan immediately gave up all intention of passing the first automobile.
“Go to it, boy!” shouted Fisher Greene. “Show ’em what’s in this car.”
“No,” said Dan, easily. “We’re not out for a race, but for a pleasant run.”
“You’re afraid!” mocked Wiley.
“Perhaps,” returned Dan, cheerfully.
Even Billy kept his temper and grinned at the gibes of Wiley and Fisher. The Breton-Melville car had shown what she could do for a few moments, and that satisfied Billy, as it did hisbrother. The Speedwells knew that of the three cars, their drab machine was running the smoothest, with less cost, and was as easily governed as any.
They ran on for the rest of the distance to Karnac Lake in the same order, letting Chance, in the Poole car, keep the lead, while the Speedwell and Greene machines ran close together and the occupants were sociable.
They arrived at Stetson Lodge, as the lake cottage was called, in ample season to remove the dust of the journey, and become acquainted with other folk of the cottage colony invited in for supper. It was a merry evening for all, the Stetsons being people who knew very well how to make their guests feel at home.
At eleven o’clock, or a little later, the party broke up. The neighboring guests went home and the members of the party sought their several rooms. Dan and Billy had already explained to Jim Stetson that they intended to run home in their car and return soon after breakfast, or even before, Saturday morning.
“You can’t do it, fellows,” said Jim, as he went out with them, and held the lantern while they ran the drab car out from under the shed and lit the lamps, both fore and aft. “Fifty miles each way—huh! something will happen to the machine as sure as shooting.”
“If she can’t run a hundred miles in twelve hours without going to the repair shop,” snorted Billy, “there isn’t much use in our entering for the thousand mile run.”
“You’re right there, Billy-boy,” said Dan, as he cranked up and the engine began to whirr and pop.
“Well, good luck!” exclaimed Jim, as he closed the shed. “We have to keep these doors locked. You see, that M’Kim chap—Harrington M’Kim—is just crazy about automobiles and uncle doesn’t know what he might do next. He came over here one day last summer and borrowed uncle’s car without saying ‘by your leave’, and started off with it. They caught him, however, in time.”
“What’s the matter with him?” asked Billy.
“Why—I’m not sure that there’s much the matter with him, if his folks wouldn’t watch over him so close and nag him all the time. The poor chap is epileptic——”
“Has fits?”
“Yes. Dreadful ones sometimes. But he’ll outgrow them, the doctor says. Only his folks are rich, and they hire maids, and governesses, and tutors and such folk, to watch him all the time. They don’t dare have him play like other boys, or with other boys. He’s in bad now, I tell you.”
“But running an automobile is no job for a fellow who may have a fit at any moment,” said Billy.
“I believe you,” said Jim. “Well, you’re off!”
“Bye-bye!” shouted Billy, as Dan whirled the car out of the yard. But before they were a mile on the road the brothers changed places. Billy slipped to the wheel and Dan sat beside him.
“Now, youngster!” chuckled Dan, “let’s see what you can do to her. We have a clear road before us. Up hill and down dale—just about what we’ll have for the thousand mile run. And we’ve got no weight behind. Let her go!”
The drab car climbed the hill without a break, slid over the summit, and coasted down the other side at a pace which made the brothers stoop to get a breath. Their lights showed a long, clear stretch of road ahead; but when they came to a bend they went around it so quickly that Dan was obliged to fling himself far out from the car on the inner side to keep the tires on the ground. And his weight was barely sufficient for that.
At racing speed they came down into Riverdale. The town was silent and only the street lights winked at them as they roared through the streets and out past Josiah Somes’ home. That watchdog of the public welfare was not on hand to stretch his rope for them, and in a very few minutes they ran quietly into their own yard—time from Karnac, one hour and thirteen minutes.
But as soon as the engine had cooled off they had to go over the entire machine, tighten bolts, replace some, clean thoroughly, oil the bearings, and otherwise give the Breton-Melville a thorough grooming.
“That’s all right,” said Dan. “She can do fast time—there’s no doubt of it. But that isn’t the way to win an endurance test of a thousand miles, Billy.”
“I expect not,” agreed his brother.
“Fast traveling will shake the best car to pieces. And we are not up in the mechanics of the automobile yet—we can’t stop anywhere on the road and repair the vitals of our craft, as these professionals do.”
“We’ve got to learn,” said Billy, thoughtfully.
“That’s the checker! If we are going in for mechanics—motorcycles, motor cars—perhaps, Billy, power boats——”
“Ouch! you’re treading on a sore corn,” grunted Billy, but with a grin. “I was watching those scooters running up and down the river under the bridge the other day till my tongue fairly hung out of my mouth! My goodness me, Dannie! what couldn’t we do with a motor boat—eh?”
“We couldn’t plow for corn with it, I reckon,” laughed the elder brother. “But it would be fine to own a launch like thePedoe, or theMainspring II.”
“And how about John Lovell’sBlue Streak?” exclaimed Billy. “I saw her on the Fourth. Why, she cut the water like a shark going to dinner!”
“Well, to get back to what I was saying,” Dan observed. “If we are going in for these things, we must have some technical training. We can’t think of going to school after next year. Father can’t afford to send us. But we must get in somewhere—into some shop where we can learn mechanics.”
“The Darringford Shops, for instance?” suggested Billy.
“One of us might; but the other ought to take up the electrical branches, I believe.”
While they were talking, they were at work upon the body and mechanism of their Breton-Melville. Before it was time to do the usual chores they had put the car in fine shape again, got an hour’s nap which did them a world of good, and they were loading up the wagons when their father came out of the house.
“Aren’t you boys paying rather dearly for your fun?” he asked, good-naturedly. “I hardly expected you’d get back here. Your mother and I did not hear you come in. And how does the car run?”
“Dandy and good, Dad!” cried Billy, while Dan said:
“Now, there wasn’t any need of your getting up so early. We’re not going to let you pay for our fun, that’s sure. When Billy and I get our schemes to working right, we’ll deliver this milk in half the time it takes now—and, naturally, at half the expense.”
“Yes,” interposed Billy, giggling. “Dan’s going to take the bottles around to the customers in a motor launch!”
But Dan only smiled quietly at this. They got off with the milk wagons in good season, and were back betimes, also, and without mishap. Mrs. Speedwell had a good breakfast ready for them, and they ate and were off again in the car at a few minutes past seven o’clock.
The run back to Karnac Lake was a more moderate one than that they had taken at midnight; nevertheless they arrived at the Stetson cottage about nine o’clock. They put their own car into the shed which did service as a garage and found the whole crowd out on the drive along the lakeside—a fine macadamized piece of road sixty feet wide and following the lake shore for nearly ten miles.
Chance Avery had Poole’s car out and was driving up and down, “doing stunts,” as Wiley Moyle called it.
“Why don’t you fellows bring out your bunch of scrap iron and show that chap some fancy running?” Fisher Greene demanded. “Perry won’t get our car in the ring. I hate to see Chance Avery always carrying off the honors.”
“No,” said Dan. “We’ve just taken fifty miles at a good clip and we’ll have to overhaul her again before we go back to-night. Let Chance do his monkey business without any rival.”
But the girls thought that Avery was really a remarkable chauffeur. He did handle Burton Poole’s car with some dexterity; nevertheless, Dan was quite decided in his own mind that the Poole automobile was by no means as good a machine as their own Breton-Melville.
Burton, however, had his car furnished nicely. There was little wonder that the girls preferred to ride in it. They all became tired after a little while, however, and either joined in, or stood to watch, a doubles’ set at tennis. Chance left his car, and joined Mildred Kent beside the tennis court.
Suddenly Jim Stetson began to shout. He was one of the players and had just started service when he dropped ball and racquette and started on a run for the road, yelling:
“Get out of that, Harrington! Drop it!”
At the moment the car began to pop and they all saw it move away from the curb. A slight fellow in a blazer coat, and without a hat, was at the wheel. He was a pasty-faced fellow, thin, unhealthy-looking, and with a pronounced squint in his eyes.
He grinned over his shoulder at Jim, and stuck out his tongue. Meanwhile he put the car up to a good speed and fairly flew away up the drive.
“It’s Harrington M’Kim!” cried Ruth Stetson. “Oh, that boy will do some damage to that car!”
“He’ll wreck it, or break his own neck,” declared Monroe Stevens. “Why did you leave it so it could be started by the first chap that came along, Chance?”
But there was no use in scolding the captain of the Outing Club. Poole’s car was sailing up the drive at a pace which made pursuit afoot a futile game.
“Somebody get out another car and give chase!” cried Jim.
“But then Harrington will only run faster,” objected his sister.
Suddenly they saw the car describe a graceful curve and return toward them. The reckless youth handled Poole’s auto like a veteran.
“We’ve got a chance to stop him when he comes by,” declared Avery.
“How?” sneered Jim Stetson. “He’d run right over you. He wouldn’t care. I tell you he doesn’t act as though he had good sense.”
“What do they let such a fellow go loose for, then?” cried Chance Avery.
As he spoke they were all startled by the change which they saw plainly flash into young Harrington M’Kim’s features. His countenance writhed, he fell back in the seat, let go of the wheel and his body was convulsed in the grip of the epileptic seizure. The automobile was running wild!