CHAPTER XX
OFF ON THE ENDURANCE TEST
The boy was a sad sight himself; but the peril which menaced himand—incidentally—Burton Poole’s auto, moved some of the onlookers morethan did the pitiful condition of young Harrington M’Kim.
The car was rushing down toward the Stetson cottage, which was the lasthouse in the row before the drive turned abruptly away from the lake. Atthis corner a low wall guarded the path; but the bricks were built uponly two feet high, and that wildly running auto would mount thesidewalk and this brick wall, too, and be dashed into the water whichhere lapped the foot of the embankment.
It was a sad predicament for M’Kim. But to one of those who saw the carflying down the drive, the fate of the machine seemed more importantthan the fate of the boy!
“Stop it! The car will be wrecked!” yelled Chance Avery, and he fairlydanced up and down in his excitement. But he did not make any recklessattempt to halt the career of the automobile.
Fortunately the car had been headed straight down the middle of the roadbefore M’Kim’s seizure. It came at fast speed, for the reckless youthhad set the gas lever well forward. It swept down upon thehorror-stricken group.
It was Dan Speedwell who made the first move. He cleared the sidewalk inthree strides and dashed into the road directly in the path of theflying car. The girls screamed again. Mildred Kent called to him.
“Dan! Dannie! You’ll be killed!”
And it did seem an utterly reckless and useless thing for Dan to do. Hewas putting his life in jeopardy, so it seemed, without there being apossibility of his either aiding the boy in the car, or stopping theauto itself.
The writhing figure on the front seat attracted less attention now thandid Dan. They saw him stand, unmoved, directly in the track of the car.The heavy machine rolled down upon him and—it seemed—would crush him inan instant.
It was then that Dan Speedwell leaped aside. The automobile flashed by,but Dan was quick enough to catch hold with both hands.
He was whirled off his feet and was dragged for several yards. Then hegot a knee upon the run board, then raised himself, slipped to thewheel, and as the car came to the sharp turn, he threw back the lever,cast out the gear, and guided the fast-flying auto so that it would takethe bend in the road on a long curve.
It was all over, then. Dan turned the car about and came easily backbefore his excited friends reached the corner. M’Kim lay still, theparoxysm past. Dan ran the car in toward the curb and halted.
“Dan! you dear fellow, you!” shouted Burton Poole, first to seize hishand. “I suppose I’m selfish to not think more of M’Kim—but the car! Yousaved it for us.”
“You’re all right, Dannie,” cried his brother, pumping away at his otherhand.
Jim and Fisher Greene raised a more or less familiar chant:
“Dan! Dan! He’s the man! Dan! Dan! Dan Speedwell!”
They were all shouting the chant in a moment—all but Chance Avery.Chance looked the car over to make sure that it was not injured. But henever gave the lad who had saved it a word of thanks. Friends of M’Kimcared for the unfortunate youth.
The pleasant day by the lake passed without incident after that. Theyrode home in the evening, a merry party indeed. Mildred Kent elected tosit beside Dan in the front seat. There was a new moon riding above thetree-tops, and the stars were brilliant.
“Dannie,” said the girl, laying her friendly hand upon his jacketsleeve, “I want to tell you how proud I am that you stopped that car andsaved it from going over the wall. I know Chance Avery has treated youmeanly, and it must have taken some effort on your part to jump in andsave the car he has boasted is going to beat yours for the golden cup.It was real noble of you—you heaped coals of fire on Avery’s head.”
But Dan and Billy both had occasion to think a good deal about BurtonPoole’s automobile before Thanksgiving week came around. Chance Averyallowed no opportunity to pass wherein he could belittle the Speedwells’drab car, or cast doubt upon the possibility of our heroes getting ahundred miles on the trail laid out by Mr. Briggs for the endurancetest.
The circulars containing the rules of the road and other informationwere studied more than the school text books those final few days beforethe Thanksgiving vacation. Even Dan, who was particularly faithful tohis studies, found it hard to keep up to the mark.
He and Billy had bought maps of the states through which they hoped totravel. The course was laid out as a rough triangle, making Compton thestarting point and touching two large cities, bringing up finally atCompton again as a finish. The measured distance over the route chosenwas exactly a thousand and eight miles.
They knew that they could easily comply with all the demands Mr. Briggsmade, and with all the conditions of the race. They had learned by thistime the minutest particulars about their car. Either of the Speedwellscould have taken the Breton-Melville auto apart and assembled the partsagain perfectly.
Among the Riverdale Outing Club members the interest lay in the rivalrybetween the local cars, more than in the general outcome of the race.There were to be several contestants from the town in the endurance run,but it was generally acknowledged that none of them had much chance—ifthe result of the run was governed by speed—saving Burton Poole’s carand that of the Speedwell boys.
And the owners of the Breton-Melville car knew that the speedpossibilities of their auto was only a part of the game. It would neverdo to race over the roads at the pace they had come from Karnac Lake atmidnight. No machine, no matter how well built, could stand many milesof such work without shaking to pieces.
The boys had gone over the route by map, and planned just where theywould halt for their meals and for necessary sleep. They had readaccounts of former runs, and knew about what to expect on the road.Although the run was well advertised, there would doubtless be manyobstructions on the route, and the weather, of course, could not bearranged to suit the contestants.
The rules were that any contestant could run ten hours in eachtwenty-four—consecutively, not otherwise; time lost on repairs orstoppages beyond the automobilists’ control, not allowed. The cars wereto be started within ten minutes of each other, and their time would beregistered at each station. Stoppages for refreshment, or sleep, had tobe reported exactly, too.
One week before the starting of the race there were entered sixty-fivecars in the endurance test. Then came the drawings, and Dan and Billyfound themselves to be forty-eighth on the list. The first car would bestarted out of the Compton Motordrome at four o’clock in the morning,and, allowing ten minutes for each car to get under way, the Speedwellboys would not be sent out until ten minutes before noon. Their firstday’s run, therefore, would end at ten minutes to ten at night.
The rules allowed them to make the nearest station at the end of a day’srun; but any extra time had to be subtracted from the following day’sschedule. It was a much discussed question as to how long it would takethe best car to get over the route under Mr. Briggs’ rules; Dan andBilly believed that it would take between four and five days.
“Twenty miles an hour, on an average, will be mighty good time,” Dansaid to his brother. “Of course, we read about sixty, and seventy, andeighty and even ninety and more miles an hour, in automobile racing.We’ve traveled at the rate of ninety miles on our motorcycles—for amile, or so. But that isn’t what counts.”
“Just the same, if a fellow could get ahead and keep his lead—” beganBilly.
“Yes! Keeping it is what counts. But if any of these fellows startracing over the sort of roads there are between Greenbaugh and OlinCity, for instance, they’ll shake their machines to pieces inside offive miles. Remember, we’ve got to climb a mountain chain twice duringthe run, and it will be a stiff pull each time.”
“Don’t you fret. You’re the doctor,” grunted Billy. “I’m not going toput in my oar. I’ll trust to your judgment every time, old man.”
“Well, I may make a mista
ke,” admitted Dan. “But I’m glad for one thatChance and Burton are not near us.”
“No, they’re lucky to get away among the first—seven will be tacked ontothe hood of their car,” said Billy, who had been studying the advertisedlist of entries. “And do you notice where Mr. Briggs’ maroonPostlethwaite is? He’s running near us—forty-one.”
“We’ll have good neighbors, then,” chuckled Dan.
“I don’t suppose the cars will remain long in the order they start, doyou?”
“I don’t know. We can leave when we please on the second day’s run. Iwant, if possible, to make the Holly Tree Inn at Farmingdale on ourfirst day.”
“Whew!” ejaculated Billy, after consulting his guide. “That’s threehundred miles—nearly. Do you think we can do it?”
“I don’t know. I mean to try.”
“And you were the one who said that racing wouldn’t pay.”
“And it won’t; but the roads are as good as any we shall have during theentire run. Our car will be—is now, in fact—in perfect shape. If we haveany mechanical trouble, Billy, it won’t be on the first day. She canstand thirty miles an hour. We’ll carry our eats with us, and ourbiggest load will be gasoline. I don’t propose to stop but once a day tobuy juice—make up your mind to that, Billy-boy!”
There was an element of chance in the race, however, which lent zest toit. An accident might make even the best of the cars fail to winlaurels. Down to the evening before the start, and on the arrival of allof the contestants at the Compton Motordrome, no one could say surelywhich automobile, and which team, had the better chance of winning thegolden cup.
The motordrome was gay with lights and red-fire. There were races, andspeeches, and a big crowd assembled and remained all night to see thestarting of the first cars. There was an all-night bicycle race foramateurs in which Biff Hardy and Wiley Moyle carried off the honors forthe Riverdale Club; but although there were motorcycle races, too, theSpeedwells decided to keep out of them. They could not afford to risk anaccident.
And there was another thing Dan did not risk. When they left theirBreton-Melville under the shed, to go to the big gate and watch thefirst cars get under way, Dan left somebody to watch the drab auto—andsomebody whom he could trust.
The Speedwells stood in the crowd and saw the first cars get away in thelight of the search-lamps. It was a cloudy morning and the string ofautos up the straight road soon looked like so many glow-worms. Whennumber seven rolled down to the starting line and the big placards werefastened on, fore and aft, Dan and Billy made off for a house where theyhad engaged a bed. They got five hours refreshing sleep and then had amost excellent breakfast.
When they went back to the motordrome at a few minutes past eleven, theyfound their father and mother and the children waiting for them. Mr.Speedwell had driven over and brought his boys a great box of lunch tocarry in their car. He had engaged a man to help him with the milkroutes while Dan and Billy were absent.
There were plenty of Riverdale folk to cheer for the Speedwells as theygot away, too. Mildred Kent and Lettie Parker were in the Greenes’ autoand the girls wished the team handling number forty-eight the best ofgood luck as the drab car started.
The boys waved their caps as the Breton-Melville slid smoothly out ofthe motordrome gate and over the starter’s line. There was a big crowdin Compton now to watch the remaining cars get under way. The policekept the street open for some distance; then the road broadened and thehouses became few and far between.
The shouts of the onlookers grew distant. The drab car began to purrlike a great cat. Behind they saw number forty-nine thrusting itsbattleship prow out of a balloon of dust that traveled with it. Danadvanced the spark. Right before them was number forty-seven, that hadstarted ten minutes earlier. The Breton-Melville, like a drab rocket,curved out for this car and passed it as though forty-seven was at astandstill!
The great race had begun, and Billy, in his heart, secretly counted thepassing of this car as the first milestone on their way to victory.