Read Tom Swift and His Electric Runabout; Or, The Speediest Car on the Road Page 14


  CHAPTER XIV

  A GREAT RUN

  Boomerang did not belie the reputation Eradicate had given him as abeast of strength. Though the electric runabout was heavy, the mulemanaged to move it along the road at a fair speed, with the fouroccupants. Perhaps the animal knew that at the end of his journey agood feed awaited him. At any rate they were soon within sight of theSwift home.

  Mr. Damon and Mr. Sharp refrained from making any comments that mighthurt Tom's feelings, for they realized the chagrin felt by the younginventor in having his apparatus go back on him at the first trial. Butour hero was not the kind of a lad who is disheartened by one failure,or even half a dozen.

  The humor of the situation appealed to him, and, as he turned the autointo the driveway, and noticed Boomerang's long ears waving to and fro,he laughed.

  The lad insisted on putting new fuses in the car before he ate hisdinner, and then, satisfied that the motor was once more in runningorder, he partook of a hasty meal, and began making several changeswhich he had decided were desirable. He finished them in time to go fora little run in the car all alone on a secluded road late thatafternoon.

  Tom returned, with eyes shining, and cheeks flushed with elation.

  "Well, how did it go? asked his father.

  "Fine! Better than I expected," responded his son enthusiastically."When it gets to running smoothly I'll pass anything on the road."

  "Don't be too sure," cautioned Mr. Swift, but Tom only smiled.

  There was still much to do on the electric runabout, and Tom spent thenext few days in adjusting the light steel wind-shield, that was tocome down over the driver's seat. He also put in a powerful electricsearch-light, which was run by current from the battery, and installeda new speedometer and an instrument to tell how much current he wasusing, and how much longer the battery would run without beingexhausted. This was to enable him to know when to begin recharging it.When the current was all consumed it was necessary to store more in thebattery. This could be done by attaching wires from a dynamo, or, in anemergency by tapping an electric light wire in the street. But as thebattery would enable the car to run many miles on one charging, Tom didnot think he would ever have to resort to the emergency chargingapparatus. He had a new system for this, one that enabled him to do thework in much less than the usual time.

  With his new car still unpainted, and rather rough and crude inappearance, the lad started out alone one morning, his father and Mr.Sharp having declined to accompany him, on the plea of business toattend to, and Mr. Damon not being at the Swift house.

  Tom rode about for several hours, giving his car several severe testsin the way of going up hills, and speeding on the level. He wasproceeding along a quiet country road, in a small town about fifteenmiles from Shopton, when, as he flashed past the small railroadstation, he saw a familiar figure standing on the platform.

  "Why, Ned!" called Tom, "what are you doing over here?"

  "I might ask the same thing of you. Is that your new car? It doesn'tlook very new."

  "Yes, this is it. I haven't had a chance to paint and varnish it yet.But you ought to see it go. What are doing here, though?"

  "I came over on some bank business. A customer here had some bonds hewanted to dispose of and I came for them. You see we're enlarging ourbusiness since the new bank started."

  "Has it hurt your bank any?"

  "Not yet, but Foger and his associates are trying hard to make us losemoney. Say, did you ever see such a place as this? I've got to wait twohours for a train back to Shopton."

  "No you haven't."

  "Why not? Have they changed the timetable since I came over thismorning?"

  "No, but you can ride back with me. I'm going, and I'll show you whatmy new electric car can do."

  "Good!" cried the young bank cashier. "You're just in time. I waswondering how I could kill two hours, but now I'll get in your new carand--"

  "And maybe we'll kill a few chickens, or a dog or two when we get herspeeded up," put in Tom, with a laugh in which Ned joined.

  The two lads, seated in the front part of the auto, were soon movingdown the hard highway. Suddenly Tom pulled a lever and the steelwind-shield came sliding down from the top case, meeting the forwardbattery compartment, and forming a sort of slanting roof over the headsof the two occupants.

  "Here! What's this?" cried Ned.

  "We're going to hit it up in a few minutes," replied the younginventor, "and I want to reduce the wind resistance."

  "Oh, I thought maybe we were going through a bombardment. It's allright, go ahead, don't mind me. I'm game."

  There was a celluloid window in the steel wind-shield, and through thisthe lads could observe the road ahead of them.

  As they swung along it, the speed increasing, Ned saw an auto ahead ofthem.

  "Whose car is that?" he asked.

  "Don't know," replied Tom. "We'll be up to it in about half a minute,though."

  As the electric runabout, more dilapidated looking than ever from thelayer of dust that covered it, passed the other auto, which was apowerful car, the solitary occupant of it, a middle-aged man, looked toone side, and, seeing the queer machine, remarked:

  "You fellows are going the wrong way to the junk heap. Turn around."

  "Is that so?" asked Tom, his eyes flashing at the cheap wit of the man."Why we came out here to show you the way!"

  "Do you want to race?" asked the man eagerly, too eagerly, Ned thought."I'll give you a brush, if you do, and a handicap into the bargain."

  "We don't need it," replied the young inventor quickly.

  "I'll wager fifty dollars I can beat you bad on this three-milestretch," went on the autoist. "How about it?"

  "I'll race you, but I don't bet," answered Tom, a bit stiffly.

  "Oh, be a sport," urged the man.

  Tom shook his head. He had slowed down his machine, and was runningeven with the gasolene car now. He noticed that it was a new one, ofsix cylinders, and looked speedy. Perhaps he was foolish to pit hisuntried car against it. Yet he had confidence in his battery and motor.

  "Well, we'll race for the fun of it then," went on the man. "Do youwant a handicap?"

  Tom shook his head again, and there came around his mouth a grim look.

  "All right," assented the other. "Only you're going to be beat badly. Inever saw an electric car yet that could do anything except to crawlalong."

  "You're going to see one now," was all the retort Tom permitted himself.

  "Here we go then!" cried the man, and he gave his gear handle a yank,and shoved over the sparking and gasolene levers.

  His car instantly shot ahead, and went "chug chugging" down the road ina cloud of dust. At the same moment Tom, in answer to a look from Ned,who feared his friend was going to be left behind, turned more powerinto the motor. The humming, purring sound increased and the electriccar forged ahead.

  "Can you catch him?" asked Ned.

  "Watch," was all Tom said.

  The hum of the motor became a sort of whine, and the electric rapidlyacquired speed. It crept up on the gasolene car, as an express trainovertakes a freight, and the man, looking back, and expecting to seehis rival far behind was surprised to note the queer looking vehiclelapping his rear wheels.

  "Well, you are coming on, aren't you?" he asked. "Maybe you'll keep upnow!" He shifted the gears, using a little more gasolene. For a momenthis car opened a wide gap between it and Tom's, but the young inventorhad only begun to race. Still louder purred the motor, and in a fewminutes Tom was running on even terms with his competitor. The manlooked annoyed, and tried, by the skilful use of gasolene and sparkinglevers, to leave Tom behind. But the electric held her own.

  "I've got to go the limit I see," remarked the man at last, glancingsideways at the other car. "I'll tell 'em you're coming," he added,"though I must say your electric does better than any of its kind Iever came across."

  "I'm not done yet," was the comment of our hero. But the man did nothear him, for he was yank
ing into place the lever that enabled him torun on direct drive for fourth speed.

  Forward shot his car, and, for perhaps a quarter of a mile it led. Theracers were almost at the end of the three-mile level stretch of road,and if Tom was going to win the impromptu contest it seemed high timehe began.

  "Can you catch him?" asked Ned anxiously.

  "Watch," was his chum's reply. "I haven't used my high speed gear yet.I'm afraid the fuses won't stand it, but here goes for a try, anyhow."

  He threw over a switch, changed a lever and then, having pushed intoplace the last gear, he grasped the steering wheel more firmly.

  There was need of it, for, in an instant, the electric runabout, withthe motors fairly roaring, swept up the road, after the gasolene carthat was almost hidden from sight in a cloud of dust. Faster and fasterwent Tom's car. The young inventor was listening with critical ear tothe song of the machinery. He wanted to learn if it was running sweetand true, for that is how a careful mechanic tests his apparatus. Footby foot the distance between the two cars lessened. Now the electricwas lapping the rear wheels of the gasolene machine, but the driver didnot know it. His whole attention was on the road ahead of him.

  "Half a mile more!" cried Ned, naming the distance which yet remainedof the straight stretch. "Can you do it, Tom?"

  His chum nodded. He shoved the controller handle over to the lastnotch, and then waited an anxious second. Would the fuse carry theextra load? It seemed so, for there was a slight increase of power.

  An instant later Tom gave a sudden twist to the steering wheel. It waswell that he did, for he was passing the gasolene car dangerouslyclose. Then he was ahead of it, and in a second he was three lengths inadvance.

  Desperately the man opened his muffler, and sought to gain by thisadvantage, but though his car gave off explosions like a battery ofguns in action, he could not gain on Tom. The electric shot around acurve in the road, winner of the impromptu race by an eighth of a mile.

  "Well," asked Tom of his chum, as he slowed down, for the road now wasnot so good, "did I do it?"

  "You certainly did. Whew! But we did scoot along?"

  "Eighty miles an hour there one spell," went on the young inventor,glancing at a gauge. "But I've got to do better than that to win thebig race."