White Fire

  CHAPTER VI A WILD RACE IN THE NIGHT

  Johnny had not gone far in the pursuit of the strange intruder who hadleaped out from behind the sheet-steel press, before he realized thatthis was no ordinary runner. Not only was he fleet and sure, but he wasalso nimble as a deer.

  Almost from the first it became an obstacle race, a hurdle race, along-distance endurance race, all in one. Into the milling-room, wherewere long lines of milling-machines and where great quantities ofunfinished parts--cam-shafts, crank-shafts, gears and a multitude ofsmaller parts--were piled close together, the fugitive raced. Overmachines and heaps of parts alike he hurdled. Dodging this way and that,he was now lost to Johnny's view and now found again.

  Panting, perspiring, yet confident, Johnny followed on. Knowing full wellthat when it came to a test of endurance few men could outdo him, he heldto his pace, striving only to keep his opponent in sight.

  One thing puzzled him. In the tiger-like leap of the fellow, in theswinging, crouching stoop, there was something strikingly familiar.

  "I've seen him before, I know that," he told himself, "but when andwhere?"

  Suddenly the fellow shot up the cross-bars of an inclined conveyor trackwhich led to the second floor. Suspended from a mono-rail above thisconveyor track was an electrically controlled tram.

  Was the electricity turned on? Johnny's mind worked with the speed of awireless. His muscles did its bidding. Leaping to the platform of thetram, he threw the lever back. So suddenly did the thing start forwardthat Johnny was all but thrown from the tram.

  The next instant he caught his breath and threw in the clutch. He was nota second too soon, for had the tram traveled ten feet further it wouldinevitably have struck the racing stranger square in the back of hishead.

  "I want to catch him, not kill him," muttered Johnny.

  But the stranger was game. Leaping away to the right, he dropped througha hole in the floor in which there dangled a chain. Quickly hedisappeared from sight.

  Johnny followed, and, just as he touched the floor below, heard the humof an electric motor.

  Johnny knew at once what it was--a "mule," as the workmen called theshort, snub-nosed electric trucks used all over the shops for lighthauling.

  "I can't catch him on a mule," he groaned.

  But again his face cleared. Just before him there stood another of thetrucks. "A mule against a mule," he smiled. "Now we'll see who's the bestdriver."

  The race, while wild and furious, assumed an almost humorous aspect;indeed, Johnny fancied that from time to time the stranger turned aboutand uttered a low chuckle. That was disconcerting, to say the least.Added to this was the growing conviction that he had met this fellowbefore, and that under more favorable circumstances.

  All this, however, did not in one whit abate his desire to win the raceand capture the fellow. Wildly the mules plunged on. Around this corner,then that one, down a long row of half-assembled automobiles where asingle mislaid tool in their track might mean a disastrous spill, througha maze of trucks loaded down with finished parts, now out into the openair between buildings, now through a tunnel, they raced. Now gaining, nowlosing, now dashing through a short-cut and almost clipping the end ofthe stranger's mule, now headed off by a slamming door, Johnny gained,only to lose again, until at last he came up short to find the stranger'smule standing deserted in the heart of the packing-room.

  "Where could he have gone?"

  It took but a moment for the answer. There came the grind of the overheadtram. The tram used for carrying fully boxed machines led to the greatloading room where Johnny had lost his other race.

  "If he makes it, he's gone!" Leaping out and up, Johnny caught theplatform of a second tram; he drew himself up, threw in the lever and wasonce more in the race.

  At last fortune was favoring him. The door to the loading-room waslocked. The stranger was running himself into a narrow passage from whichescape would be impossible. Johnny leaped from his tram, to find thestranger facing him. That person was clearly on the defense. With fistsdoubled up he advanced to attack.

  Just as the stranger struck out with his right hand, Johnny duckedlow--so low that the other's blow glanced harmlessly over his head. Thenext instant Johnny would have come up with a "haymaker," had not thestranger thrown himself, stomach down, on Johnny's back, and turned aquick somersault forward.

  Whipping himself about, prepared for another wild race, Johnny wasastonished to find the stranger standing smiling at him, and extendinghis hand;

  "Good work, Johnny, old boy!" the other grinned. "You haven't lost a bitof your pep!"

  "You've got the best of me," Johnny smiled doubtfully, "but if you everhad any more pep yourself, I'd hate to have followed you far!" He moppedhis brow.

  "Don't recognize me, eh? Perhaps you miss the blue goggles."

  "What?" Johnny stared. "What? Not my old pal, Panther Eye?"

  "The same," smiled the other.

  "But what are you doing here?"

  "Been working here for a month. Got a way of getting in when I want to.Thought I'd make you an early morning call. Whew! you sure gave me amerry chase! Good of you though not to knock my head off with that tram.'Fraid you'll never make an ideal guard."

  "I'd never be a guard at all if I had my way. But what'd you run for?"

  "Just wanted to see how much you had in you," chuckled Panther Eye.

  "Oh, you did! Well, you saw, didn't you?"

  "Yes," the other admitted, taking his turn at mopping his brow.

  "Say!" Johnny exclaimed, "since it's only you, I've got to get back to mypost. Got some cakes and a little ice-cream in the bottom of a freezerfrom the company cafeteria. Want to join me?"

  "Sure."

  "All right; let's go."

  As they made their way back through the maze of machinery to the vault,Johnny was busy with his own thoughts. Strange questions kept rising inhis mind. This fellow, Panther Eye, or "Pant," as the boys called him forshort, had been with him in many an adventure. He had appeared to possessstrange powers, too. The boys had called him "Panther Eye" because heappeared to have the power to see in the dark. There had been a time whenJohnny had been with him in a cave dark as a dungeon, surrounded byhostile natives, yet Pant had somehow known that the natives were there,and had led the way through the dense darkness to safety. There had beenother times--many of them--in which Pant had made Johnny a heavy debtorto him through his use of wonderful powers.

  "Now," Johnny was wondering, "just how much has he to do with the eventsof the last few days? He's too honorable a fellow to have anything to dowith the attempt to secure the secret-process steel for some othermanufacturer. But how about the white fire? What of the driving of thetraveling crane?"

  At last he closed his mental questionings with a sigh. He had never askedPant to reveal any of his secrets and he was not going to begin now.

  Soon they were feasting on ice-cream and cake and talking over old times.

  "By the way," said Johnny, as dawn began to break, "have you ever met Mr.McFarland?"

  "Say not!" grinned Pant. "He's the manager, ain't he?"

  "Yes. Want to meet him?"

  "I'd try it once."

  "All right. Soon's I'm relieved from duty we'll wander around to hisoffice."

  "Chum of yours, I suppose?"

  "Not exactly. But I'm working under his orders. Got something to turn inthis morning."

  "Let's see. What?"

  Johnny showed him the connecting-rod made of the strange blue steel."Made that myself," Johnny said proudly.

  A peculiar smile played about Pant's lips, but he said never a word.

  When Pant had been introduced to the manager, as one of Johnny's oldestand best friends, who happened to be working at the plant, Johnnyproduced the connecting rod, and, with trembling fingers, handed it tothe manager.

  "What's that?" A puzzled expression came into the manager's eyes.

  "Connecting-rod made of the ne
w-process steel."

  "What! Can't be! That steel won't work! Nobody knows how. But--" Hepaused to look more closely--"but it is! Say! Do you know how to workit?"

  "No," Johnny said regretfully, "I'm afraid I don't."

  "Then how was it made? Where did you get it?"

  Johnny sat down and this time told the story of the white fire throughfrom the beginning. Only one thing he did not tell: He did not tell oftesting the steel in the laboratory and of the bottle of brownish liquidon the top shelf.

  The manager listened with rapt attention, now and then ejaculating:"Never heard of such a thing! Can't believe it unless I see it myself!Impossible, young man! Impossible! Can't believe it!"

  "But here's the forging to prove it," insisted Johnny stoutly.

  "Tell you what!" said the manager, "I'm willing to lose a night's sleepover it, or part of one at least. We'll try the thing out. We'll see ifthe ghost walks to-night," he laughed. "We'll take out two of the longbars in the vault and one of the short ones. We'll put them on the forgeand--and if the fire comes and they get white-hot, we'll cut the two longbars in half, and hammer four connecting-rods from them and one from theshort one. That will give six with this one you have, making a full setfor one of our chummy roadsters. Can you drive a car?" he asked suddenly.

  "Yes, sir."

  "All right. If the ghost walks to-night, it's a trip clear across thecontinent for you--all the way to the Golden Gate and back again! Whatsay?"

  "I--I--say all right," stammered Johnny.

  "Mind you," warned Mr. McFarland, shaking his finger at Johnny, "that'sproviding the white fire comes. But, pshaw! it won't. Whoever heard ofsuch a thing? But, anyway, I'll be around at nine sharp."

  "Shall I bring Pant?" asked Johnny.

  "As you like--providing the ghost doesn't object." The manager laughedagain, and the two boys walked out.

  That night, when the perpetual din of trip-hammers, riveters, millers,and general construction machinery was stilled, and the plant had takenon a hushed and seemingly expectant air, the three, Mr. McFarland, Johnnyand Pant, gathered in the corner of the forge-room.

  The manager seemed nervous. His hand trembled slightly as he placed thethree steel bars on the forge.

  Johnny's brow was wrinkled. He was worried. He was fearful that theexperiment would not work. Indeed, he had little hopes that it would. Andhe did want it to, for success meant the chance to get away from hismonotonous task, as well as a glorious cross-continent trip.

  Pant's face wore the old mask-like look that Johnny had seen on it somany times before.

  "Now, I take it," smiled the manager, "that the formula is to place thebars of steel on the forge, then turn your back and walk away. Alwaysmust go according to formula when dealing with ghosts," he laughed. "Areyou ready? I have placed the bars in position. All right. We're off!Remember, no looking back!" Slowly, solemnly, they marched to the end ofthe forge-room, then turned about. Johnny's heart was beating violently.

  "Why!" exclaimed the manager, "your friend isn't with us!"

  It was true. Pant had disappeared. Before Johnny could make a guess as towhat had become of him, there came another exclamation from Mr.McFarland:

  "It's working!" There was awe in his voice.

  Johnny stared for a second, then started on the run. He was closelyfollowed by his employer. The bars, already glowing red, had turned toalmost a white heat by the time they reached the side of the forge.

  The manager had been an expert forge man long before he became acapitalist. He now took charge.

  "Steady!" he cautioned. "One thing at a time. First we'll cut those barsin two. A chisel edge on that anvil there. That's right. There you are.Now forge that one while I cut the other one."

  Whang-whang-whang went the hammer. One perfect connecting-rod.Whang-whang-whang--another. Three times more, then with perspirationstanding out on their faces, Johnny and his employer sat facing oneanother while the connecting-rods cooled. To Johnny it seemed that theymust resemble nothing quite so much as two puppies, who, after succeedingin killing a rat, sit on their haunches to grin at one another.

  Suddenly Johnny sprang up;

  "Hello! Here's Pant," he shouted. "Where you been? Look what we've got!"He pointed at the forgings.

  Pant smiled a strangely noncommittal smile. "Why, I--happened to think ofsomething," was all he said. There was again that teasing smile about thecorners of his mouth.

  "Well, now, I'd like to know more about that transcontinental auto trip,"smiled Johnny, turning to his employer.

  "Not to-night. All the details are not worked out yet. Besides, it'slate, and old fellows like me belong in bed. But I want to congratulateyou." He put out his hand. Johnny shook it warmly. "The more I think ofit, Johnny, the more I'm inclined to think your ghost is a scientificenigma." With a nod to Pant which might have meant merely "good night"and which also might have indicated something more mysterious, he wasgone.

  "You see," said Mr. McFarland, as Johnny took the chair by his desk nextmorning, "you helped us to speed things up quite a bit by getting thoseconnecting-rods forged. This new steel must be tested out in actualservice. Even had we the formula, this would be true. Now, with this setof connecting-rods in our possession, we are in a position to give thesteel a thorough testing out.

  "My proposition is this," he wheeled about, and leveled his eyes uponJohnny. "We'll get those connecting-rods milled down to the shape andsurface needed, if we have to use diamond millers to do it. When they arein perfect shape, we'll put them into one of our chummy roadster engines,and you take that roadster across the continent and back again to testthem out. What do you say to that?" His face broadened into a smile."It'll be some trip, but by George you deserve it!"

  Johnny did not appear to share fully in his enthusiasm.

  "It's all right," he hesitated, "and I'd like to do it. It would be awonderful experience, but--but there's that chummy roadster I wassalvaging and was to have at cost. It's two-thirds done. It will mean along wait. I--I'd like to finish it."

  "I see," said the manager, stroking his chin. "You want a car of yourown--that's natural. I suppose most boys do."

  "It's not that," Johnny hesitated, then added: "Not that at all, sir. Iwant to finish it to sell."

  "Sell it?" His employer stared.

  "Yes, sir! I have a debt."

  "A debt?" The manager's eyes registered disapproval. "A boy of your ageshouldn't have debts."

  Johnny got red in the face, hesitated a moment, then blurted out: "It'snot my debt. My father's debt, but one he would have paid every cent ofhad he lived."

  "Your father's debt?" the manager asked with a curious change of tone."Yes, he would have paid it. I believe you. And you want to pay byselling the car you have salvaged?"

  "Yes, sir; part of it." Johnny's eyes were upon the floor.

  "All right, you shall. You shall pay it. But just now we need you forthis new service. Can you trust me to see that your affairs come out allright?"

  "Yes, sir." Johnny looked him in the eye.

  "All right. Be back in my office here at this time day after to-morrow.In the meantime, you are on your own."

  "There's one thing more," said Johnny. "This fellow Pant is an old friendof mine; he's seen me through a lot of things. Any objection to his goingalong?"

  "None whatever. He'll be a help to you, and between you, you must guardthe car well, for you must not for one minute forget that it containsalmost our entire supply of the precious new steel, and that as yet we donot know the formula."

  "We'll do our best," said Johnny, as he pulled on his cap and left theroom.