"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Damon. "Will the electric trolley pull us to a charging station?"
"No, we'll not need to go to a station," answered the youth. "If we can get my car to the trolley tracks I can charge my battery from there. And I think we can push the auto near enough. It's down hill, and I've got a long wire so we won't have to go too close."
"Good!" cried Mr. Sharp. "But attach the rope to the front of the car, Tom. Mr. Damon and I will pull it. You'll have to ride in it to steer it."
"We can take turns at riding," was Tom's answer, for he did not want his companions to do all the work.
"Nonsense! You ride," said Mr. Damon. "You're lighter than we are, and can steer better. It won't be any trouble at all to pull this car down hill."
It proved to be an easy task, and in a short time the "dead" auto was near enough to the electric line to permit Tom to run his charging wire over to it.
"Why bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, looking up. "There's no overhead trolley wire. The car must run on storage batteries."
"Third rail, more likely," was the opinion of Mr. Sharp and so it proved.
"I can charge from either the third rail or the trolley wire," declared Tom, who was insulating his hands in rubber gloves, and getting his wires ready. In a short time he had the proper connections made, and the much-needed current was soon flowing into the depleted battery, or batteries, for there were several sets, though the whole source of motive power was usually referred to as a "storage battery."
"How long will it take?" asked Mr. Damon.
"About two hours," answered the lad. "We'll probably have to disconnect our wires several times, whenever a trolley car comes past. By my system I can recharge the battery very quickly.
"Do you suppose the owners of the road will make any objection?" asked the balloonist.
"I'm going to pay for the current I use," explained the young inventor. "I have a meter which tells how much I take."
The hum of an approaching car was heard, and Tom took the wires from the third rail. The car came to a stop opposite the automobile, the passengers, as well as the crew, looking curiously at the queer racing machine. Tom explained to the conductor what was going on, and asked the fare-collector to notify those in charge of the power station that all current used would be paid for. The conductor said this would be satisfactory, he was sure, and the car proceeded, Tom resuming the charging of his battery.
Allowing plenty of reserve power to accumulate, and making sure that the gauge would not stick again, and deceive him, the owner of the speedy electric was soon ready to proceed again. They had been delayed a little over three hours, for they had to make several shifts, as the cars came past.
They reached their shore cottage late that night, and, after seeing that the runabout was safely locked in the big shed where the submarine had been built, they all went to bed, for they were very tired.
Tom sent word, the next day, to the managers of the race, that he would be on hand at the time stipulated, and announced that he had made part of the trip, as required, under the power of the auto itself.
The next day was spent in overhauling the machinery, tightening up some loose bearings, oiling different parts, and further charging the battery. Tires were looked to, and the ones on the spare wheels were gone over to prepare for any emergency that might arise when the race was started.
On the third day, Tom, Mr. Sharp and Mr. Damon, leaving the cottage completed the trip to Havenford, Long Island, where the new track had been constructed.
They reached the place shortly before noon, and, if they had been unaware of the location they could not have missed it, for there were many autos speeding along the road toward the scene of the race, which would take place the following day.
Several electric cars passed Tom and his friends, whizzing swiftly by, but the young inventor was not going to show off his speed until the time came. Besides, he did not want to run any risks of an accident. But some of the contestants seemed anxious for impromptu "brushes," and more than one called to our hero to "speed up and let's see what she can do." But Tom smiled, and shook his head.
There were many gasolene and some steam autos going out to the new track, which was considered a remarkable piece of engineering. It was in the shape of an octagon, and the turns were considered very safe. It was a five mile track, and to complete the race it would be necessary to make a hundred circuits.
Through scores of autos Tom and his friends threaded their way, the young inventor keeping a watchful eye on the various types of machine with which he would soon have to compete.
There were many kinds. Some were larger and some smaller than his. Many obviously carried very large batteries, but whether they had the speed or not was another question. Some, in spurts, seemed to Tom, to be fully as fast as his own, and he began to have some doubts whether he would win the race.
"But I'm not going to give up until the five hundredth mile is finished," he thought, grimly.
They were now in sight of the track, and noted many machines speeding around it.
"Go on in and try your car, Tom," urged Mr. Sharp.
"Yes, do," added Mr. Damon. "Let's see how it travels."
"I will, after I notify the proper officials that I have arrived," decided the lad.
The formalities were soon complied with. Tom received his entry card, after paying the fee, made affidavit that he had completed the entire trip from home under his own power, save for the little stretch when the car was pulled, which did not count against him, and was soon ready to go on the track. Only electric cars were allowed there.
As the young inventor guided his latest effort in the machine line onto the big track there were murmurs of surprise from the throngs.
"That's a queer machine," said one.
"Yes, but it looks speedy," was another's opinion.
"There's the car for my money," added a third, pointing to a big red electric which was certainly whizzing around the track. Tom noted the red car. Behind it was a green one, also moving at a fast rate of speed.
"Those will be my nearest rivals," thought the lad, as he guided his car onto the track. A moment later he was sending the auto ahead at moderate speed, while the other contestants looked at the new arrival, as if trying to discover whether in it they would have a dangerous competitor.
After making two circuits of the track at moderate speed, Tom turned on more power, deciding to see how the machine would behave on the turns, going at a fast speed. As it happened he forged ahead just as the big red car was coming up behind him. The driver of it took this for a challenge and threw his controller handle forward.
"Come on!" he cried to our hero, when even with him.
Tom did not want to decline the invitation, and the impromptu race was under way. Soon the green car came rushing up, and for two miles the three kept almost in line. It was evident that neither the green nor the red car drivers wanted to "open out," until they saw Tom do so.
He was willing to oblige them, and suddenly increased his speed. They did the same, and went ahead of him. Then Tom turned on a little more juice and got the lead, but the two men were right after him, and they see-sawed like this for two more miles. Then, with a cry the man in the red car, with a sudden burst of speed, left Tom and the green car behind. The green car was soon up to its rival, but Tom decided he would not spurt.
The lad and his friends spent the early part of the night in making a final inspection of the machinery, finding it in good order. Then, with his head filled with visions of the race on the morrow Tom went to bed. He had made inquiries, by telephone, of the friends of Miss Nestor, and learned that she had not arrived. Tom felt a distinct sense of disappointment.
The day of the race could not have been better. It was ideal weather, and conditions at the track were just right. Tom was up early, and went over every inch of his car with a nervous dread that he might find something the matter.
The final details of the race were completed, and the entrants given their numbers and places. Tom drew a good position, not the best, but he had no reason to complain. Half an hour before the start he again telephoned to see if Miss Nestor had arrived, but she had not, and it was with rather gloomy thoughts that the lad entered his car, in which Mr. Sharp had already taken his place. Mr. Damon went to the grandstand to watch the race.
"I wanted Mary to see me win," thought our hero, for he had grimly set his mind on coming in ahead.
There was a great crowd in the grandstand and scattered about the big track, which took in a large extent of territory. In spite of its size—five miles around—it seemed solidly packed for the entire length with autos, containing gay parties who had come to see the electric contest. There was a band playing gay airs, as Tom guided his machine through the entrance gate, and onto the track.
The judges made their final inspection. There were twenty cars entered, but it was obvious that some of them would not last long, as their battery capacity was not large enough. Their owners might have relied on recharging, but how they could do this under the usual slow system, and hope to win, Tom could not see. He hoped to run the entire distance on the single charge, but, if by some accident part of his current should leak away, his battery could be charged in a short time, by means of his new system, to run for a considerable distance, or he could install a new one already charged, for he had two sets on hand. Tom glanced over the cars of his competitors. They were to be sent away in batches, the affair being a handicap one, with time allowance for the smaller powered cars. Tom noted that his car and the red and the green ones were in the same bunch. Tom's car was purple.
"Are you all ready?" asked the starter of the first group of races.
"Ready," was the low-voiced response.
"Crack!" went the pistol, and there followed the hum of the motors as the current set the mechanism to work. Forward went the cars, amid the crash of the band and the cheers of the crowd. The big race was under way.
"Do you feel nervous, Tom?" asked Mr. Sharp.
"Not a bit," replied the lad.
Around and around the track flew the speedy electrics. It was evident that the holding of a meet solely for cars of this character had brought out many new ideas that would be to the benefit of the industry. Some cars were "freaks" and others, like Tom's, showed a distinct advance over previous styles of construction.
A five-hundred mile race around a track is rather a monotonous affair, except for what happens, and things very soon began to happen at this race.
As Tom had expected, several of the machines were forced to withdraw. Tire troubles beset some, and others found that they were hopelessly out of it because of low power, or lack of battery capacity.
Tom determined not to let the red or the green car gain any advantage over him, and so he watched those two vehicles narrowly. On the other hand, the red and the green electrics were evidently afraid of one another and of Tom.
They all three kept pretty much together for the first thirty miles. By this time the race had settled down into a steady grind. There was some excitement when the steering gear of one car broke, and it crashed into the fence, injuring the driver, but the race went on.
The young inventor was holding his own with his two chief rivals, and was feeling rather proud of his car, when there came from it a report like a pistol shot.
"Blow out!" yelled Tom desperately, steering to one of the several repair stations on the inner side of the track. "Be ready with the extra wheel, Mr. Sharp!"
"Right you are!" cried the balloonist. The car was scarcely stopped when he had leaped out, and had the lifting jack under the left rear wheel, where the tire had gone to the bad. He and Tom labored like Trojans to take off the wheel, and put on the other. They lost five minutes, and when they got under way again the red and the green cars were three quarters of a lap ahead.
"You've got to catch them!" declared Sharp firmly.
But the red and the green car drivers saw their advantage, and were determined to hold it. Tom could not catch them without going his limit, and he did not want to do this just yet. However, he had his opportunity when about two hundred miles had been covered. Both the red and the green cars had tire troubles, but the red one was delayed scarcely two minutes as there was a corps of mechanics on hand to take off the defective wheel and put on another. Still Tom regained his lost ground, and once more the race between those three cars was even.
In the rear of Tom's car Mr. Sharp was mending the blown-out tire, though there was still one spare wheel on reserve. Tom, in front, peered eagerly at the track. Nearly side by side raced the red and the green cars, the latter somewhat to the rear.
It was at the three hundred and fiftieth mile that Tom had another blow-out. This time it took a little longer to change the wheel, and the red and green cars gained a full lap on him. The track was now so dusty that it was difficult to see the contesting cars. Many had dropped out, and more were on the verge of giving up.
With the odds against him, Tom started in to regain the lost ground. Narrowly he watched his electric power. Slowly he saw it dropping. Would he have enough left to finish out the race? He feared not. The hours were passing. Still there was a hundred miles yet to go twenty circuits of the track. Some of the spectators were getting weary and leaving. The band played spasmodically.
Suddenly Tom saw the red car shoot to one side of the track, toward a charging station; The green car followed.
"That's our cue!" cried the young inventor "We need a little more 'juice' and now is the time to get it."
The lad ran to the shed where his charging wires were, and they were connected in a trice. He allowed twenty-five minutes for the charging, as he knew with his improved battery he could get enough current in that time to finish the contest. Before the red and green car drivers had finished installing new batteries, for they could not recharge as quickly as could our hero, Tom was on the track again. But, in a little while, his two rivals were after him.
It was now a spectacular race. Around and around swept the three big cars. All the others were practically out of it. The crowd became lively airs. Mile after mile was reeled off. The day was passing. Tired and covered with dust from the track, Tom still sat at the steering wheel.
"Two laps more!" cried Mr. Sharp, as the starter's pistol gave this warning. "Can you get away from 'em, Tom?"
The red and the green cars were following closely. The young inventor looked back and nodded. He turned on more power, almost to the limit—that he was saving for the final spurt. But after him still came the two big cars. Suddenly the red car shot ahead, just as the last lap was beginning. The green tried to follow, but there was a flash of fire, a loud report, and Tom knew a fuse had blown out. There was no time for his rival to put in a new one. The race was now between Tom and the red car. Could the lad catch and pass it?
They were now only a mile from the finish. The red car was three lengths ahead. With a quick motion Tom turned on the last bit of power. There seemed to come a roar from his motor and his car shot ahead. It was on even terms with the red car when what Tom had been fearing for the last five minutes happened: his fuse blew out.
"Too bad! It's all up with us!" cried Mr. Sharp.
"No!" cried Tom in a ringing voice. "I've got an emergency fuse ready!" He snapped a switch in place, putting into commission another fuse. The motor that had lost speed began to pick it up again. Tom had pulled back the controller handle, but he now shoved it forward again, notch by notch, until it was at the limit. He had fallen back from the red car, and the occupants of that, with a yell of triumph, prepared to cross the line a winner.
But, like a race horse that nerves himself for the last desperate spurt, Tom's machine fairly leaped ahead. With his hands gripping the rim of the steering wheel, until it seemed that the bones of his fingers would protrude, Tom sent his car straight for the finishing tape. There was a yell from the spectators. Men were standing up, waving their hats and shouting. Women were fairly screaming. Mr. Damon was blessing everything within sight. Mr. Sharp, in his excitement, was pushing on the back of the front seats as if to shove the car ahead.
Then, as the pistol announced the close of the race, Tom's car, with what seemed a mighty leap, like a hunter clearing a ditch, forged ahead, and crossed the line a length in advance of the red car. Tom Swift had Won.
Amid the cheers of the crowd the lad slowed up, and, at the direction of the judges, wheeled back to the stand, to receive the prize. A certified check for three thousand dollars was handed him, and he received the congratulations of the racing officials. The driver of the red car also generously praised him.
"You won fair and square," he said, shaking hands with Tom.
The young inventor and his friends drove their car to their shed. As Tom was descending, weary and begrimed with dust he heard a voice asking:
"Mayn't I congratulate you also?"
He wheeled around, to confront Mary Nestor, immaculate in a summer gown.
"Why—why," he stammered. "I—I thought you didn't come."
"Oh, yes I did," she answered, laughing. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything. I arrived late, but I saw the whole race. Wasn't it glorious. I'm so glad you won!" Tom was too, now, but he shrank back when Miss Nestor held out both daintily gloved hands to him. His hands were covered with oil and dirt.
"As if I cared for my gloves!" she cried, and she took possession of his hands, a proceeding to which Tom was nothing loath. "Are you going to race any more?" she asked, as he walked along by her side, away from the gathering crowd.
"I don't know," he replied. "My car is speedier than I thought it was. Perhaps I may enter it in other contests."
But what Tom Swift did later on will be told in another volume, to be called, "Tom Swift and His Wireless Message; or, The Castaways of Earthquake Island"—a strange tale of ship-wreck and mystery.
The run back home was made without incident, save for a broken chain, easily repaired, the day following the race, and Tom later received a number of invitations to give exhibitions of speed. Several automobile manufacturers wanted to secure the rights to his machine, but he said he desired to consider the matter before acting. He did not forget his promise to Mrs. Baggert, regarding the diamond earrings, and bought her the finest pair he could find.
"Come on, Mr. Sharp," proposed Tom, a week or so after the big race, "let's go for a spin in the airship. I want to see how it feels to be among the clouds once more," and they were soon soaring aloft.
The new bank, started by Mr. Foger, did not flourish long. It closed its doors in less than six months, but the old institution was stronger than ever. Mr. Berg disappeared, and Tom never learned whether the agent really was the man he had chased, and whose watch charm he tore loose, though he always had his suspicions. Nor did it ever develop who crossed the electric wires, so that Tom was so nearly fatally shocked. Andy Foger disliked our hero more than ever, and on several occasions caused him not a little trouble, but Tom was able to look after himself.
THE END
This Isn't All!
Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book?
Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author?
On the reverse side of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book.
Don't throw away the Wrapper
Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog.
By VICTOR APPLETON
Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers, Every Volume Complete in Itself.
Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading.
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLETOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTORBOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIPTOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUTTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGETOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERSTOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICETOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACERTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLETOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLDTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDERTOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITYTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERATOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHTTOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNONTOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONETOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIPTOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNELTOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERTOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANKTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUTTOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCHTOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERSTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVETOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT OIL GUSHERTOM SWIFT AND HIS CHEST OF SECRETSTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRLINE EXPRESS
By VICTOR APPLETON
Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations byWALTER S. ROGERSEvery Volume Complete in Itself.
In the company with his uncles, one a mighty hunter and the other a noted scientist, Don Sturdy travels far and wide, gaining much useful knowledge and meeting many thrilling adventures.
DON STURDY ON THE DESERT OF MYSTERY;An engrossing tale of the Sahara Desert, of encounters with wild animals and crafty Arabs.
DON STURDY WITH THE BIG SNAKE HUNTERS;Don's uncle, the hunter, took an order for some of the biggest snakes to be found in South America—to be delivered alive!
DON STURDY IN THE TOMBS OF GOLD;A fascinating tale of exploration and adventure in the Valley of Kings in Egypt.
DON STURDY ACROSS THE NORTH POLE;A great polar blizzard nearly wrecks the airship of the explorers.
DON STURDY IN THE LAND OF VOLCANOES;An absorbing tale of adventure among the volcanos of Alaska.
DON STURDY IN THE PORT OF LOST SHIPS;This story is just full of exciting and fearful experiences on the sea.
DON STURDY AMONG THE GORILLAS;A thrilling story of adventure in darkest Africa. Don is carried over a mighty waterfall into the heart of gorilla land.
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLEOr Fun and Adventure on the Road
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-BOATOr the Rivals of Lake Carlopa
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIPOr the Stirring Cruise of the Red Cloud
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOATOr Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUTOr the Speediest Car on the Road