CHAPTER XVIII
ON THE ROAD TO KARNAC LAKE
The Speedwell boys could have imagined no better outcome of this affair.Yet they were both too independent to have courted Mr. Robert’sattention and complained to him of the unfair treatment they hadreceived at the hands of the superintendent of the shops.
As for the car itself, the boys knew very well that they could leavetheir Breton-Melville in no better hands. Mr. Robert, thoughcollege-bred, had put on overalls and worked every summer in the shopssince he was fifteen years of age. He was a finished mechanic. That iswhy his men respected and liked him so much.
Dan and Billy retired, full of glee over the turn matters had taken.Their car would be put in order—in first-class order—and they need haveno fear but that the work would be done promptly. In fact, the first ofthe week Mr. Robert sent word to them that they could take the car home.
They settled their bill at the office like any other customer, and itwas no small one. They doubted if Mr. Robert had charged them much forhis own time; but the repairs cost over eighty dollars. When they ranthe car out of the yard the enamel paint was scarcely dry. But themechanism worked like that of a fine watch!
Were they proud as they sped swiftly through the Riverdale streets?Well!
There was nothing beautiful about the drab car, saving her lines. Shewas neither a touring car nor one built for show. But Mr. Robert hadassured them that he had never gone over and assembled the parts of afiner piece of auto work than this same Breton-Melville car.
“I shall have to look out for my own laurels, I very well see,” laughedthe acting head of the Darringford shops. “And Mr. Briggs himself willhave to get the best there is out of his Postlethwaite if he expects tobeat you boys in that endurance test.”
So Dan and Billy had reason for feeling proud of their car, although ithad few of the attractive qualities of the usual auto. It was plainlyfurnished, and there was not so much brass work as on most cars. As itsped along, to the observer from the sidewalk it had the appearance ofbeing stripped down to the very skeleton of a car.
The Stetson’s run to Karnac Lake was arranged for Friday afternoon,immediately after the close of classes. Dan and Billy were hard-workingboys, both in school and on the dairy farm; they had to arrange theirschedule, as Billy said, with considerable care to be able to accompanytheir friends on this run to the cottage in the woods.
Karnac Lake was a beautiful spot, some fifty miles up the river, and theroad was a good automobile path all the way. Burton Poole and ChanceAvery were boasting of having “done it” in an hour and a half.
“If they can do it in that time, in that machine of Burton’s,” declaredDan Speedwell, after they had tried out their Breton-Melville car fortwo evenings along the county pike, “we can do as well. Take my word forit, Billy.”
“I believe you,” agreed his brother.
“Then we won’t leave it all for dad to do on Saturday morning,” Dansaid. “We can run back, help him milk, take our routes as usual, andthen race back to Karnac and get there by mid-forenoon again.”
“Agreed!” said Billy. “I wish we had motor-wagons to use in distributingthe milk, anyway. Wouldn’t that be a great scheme?”
“All to the good. But one motor-wagon would do it. We could get overboth routes in less time than it takes us to deliver one route with ahorse.”
“It’s us for a motor-truck, then,” cried Billy.
“I’ve got a scheme,” said Dan, slowly. “Maybe it won’t work; and thenagain——”
“What is it?” asked Billy, eagerly.
“I don’t know as I’ll tell you just yet,” said Dan, grinning at him.
And just then something called Billy away—some duty or other—and heforgot later to ask Dan to explain his tantalizing statement.
The Speedwells made their preparations well in advance, and betweensessions Friday noon ran home on their Flying Feathers and came back totown in their Breton-Melville car. They backed it into Holliday’sgarage, where it would come to no harm during the afternoon, and as soonas school was over they ran to the garage, filled up their tank,strapped a spare five gallon can of gasoline on the running board, aswell as a pair of extra tires (that had cost them a pretty penny) intheir enamel-cloth covers, and ran out on the street.
Dan guided the car around to Mildred’s house, where the girls and boyswho were to ride with them had agreed to assemble. The doctor’s daughterwith Lettie and Kate and Maybell were already there and Wiley Moyle andyoung Fisher Greene soon arrived. Fisher was always being crowded out ofthe auto belonging to his family; but he had objected so strenuously onthis occasion that room had to be found in one of the machines and hehad elected to come with the Speedwells, for he and Billy were prettygood chums.
Fisher sat beside Dan on the front seat; four of the party squeezed intothe rear of the tonneau and the remaining two—Wiley Moyle and KatieO’Brien—faced the latter quartette. They were comfortably seated, theirpossessions stowed away, and Dan ran the car out into the Court Housesquare just as the clock in the tower struck four.
They had not long to wait for the rest of the party. Chance Avery shotthe Poole car into the square from a by-street, narrowly escaped runningover Rover, Mr. Appleyard’s old dog, and very much frightened old ladyMassey, who was about to cross the street. And he brought the car to anabrupt stop with a grin on his face, while his open muffler allowed theexhaust to deafen the whole neighborhood.
“For pity’s sake, close that muffler, Chance!” shouted Monroe Stevens,who was riding in the Greene’s car, and which now came into sight withPerry Greene at the wheel. “We can’t hear ourselves talk.”
“I hope the Town Council puts a stop to that,” declared Fisher Greene,in the Speedwell car.
“Puts a stop to what, young fellow?” demanded Chance Avery, in nopleasant tone.
“They’re going to fine those automobilists who run through the streetswith their mufflers open,” said Fisher. “Just to show off, you know—makeother folks notice that there’s an auto running by. It’s a good deallike little Ted Berry smoking cigarettes. It makes him sick, and hisuncle punishes him for it; but Ted thinks it’s making a man of him. Ireckon that would-be chauffeurs who run with their mufflers open, figureit out the same as Teddy.”
Everybody laughed but Chance; he only scowled and demanded of JimStetson:
“Well, are you folks ready?”
“All right, girls?” asked the master of ceremonies, standing up in theGreenes’ car.
Even Lettie Parker had forgotten that she was seated beside Billy andMildred in the tonneau of the smallest and least showy of the equipages.They were all so anxious to be off.
“Do go on, boys!” cried Miss Parker. “And, oh dear me! I do want you toget outside of town where you can race. I never did go fast enough yetin an automobile.”
“Lettie’s fairly gone on autos,” drawled Billy. “And if she ever gets amachine of her own——”
“Which I intend to do some day, Mr. Smartie!” cried the bronze-hairedgirl.
“Oh, I believe you!” responded Billy, who was nothing if not a tease.“And then we’ll see her riding around town with her nose in theair—worse than even Nature ever intended,” he added, with a sly glanceat the tip of Miss Parker’s pretty nose, which really was a littletip-tilted!
“All right for you, Billy Speedwell,” Miss Parker declared. “You shallnever ride in my car when I do get it.”
“No. I sha’n’t want to. I’d rather be somewhere up near the head of theprocession,” said the teasing Billy.
“Say!” cried Lettie, in a heat, “you don’t call this being at the headof the procession, do you? We’re number three, all right, and there arenone to follow.”
“Run her up a little, Dannie!” begged Wiley Moyle. “That Chance Avery ispulling ahead as though he was already running for the golden cup.”
“I didn’t know this was to be a motor race,” laughed Dan, qui
etlyputting the lever up a notch. “I thought we were out for pleasure.”
“Well, it’s no pleasure to be behind everybody else, and taking theirdust,” complained Lettie Parker.
“Be careful, Dan, no matter what they say to you,” said Mildred Kent,warningly, in her quiet way. “You know, our mothers all expect us to getsafely home again.”
The Greene automobile, which was a heavy, practical family touring car,was being put to its best pace. Chance Avery was running away from theparty, being already half a mile, or more, ahead of the Greenes.
Dan’s advancing the speed lever was not noticeable in the throbbing orjar of the car; the Breton-Melville was one of the quietest-runningautomobiles in the market. And this speed was nothing to it—as yet.
But in a very few moments they were running directly behind the heavycar of the Greenes. The dust was choking.
“Oh, do get out of the wake of that old lumber wagon!” cried Lettie, notvery politely. “This dust will smother us.”
“And you wouldn’t be contented to run far enough behind to escape theworst of it,” grunted Billy.
“Well, Billy Speedwell!” snapped the council clerk’s daughter, “there’sonly one comfortable place in an automobile run—I see that plainly.”
“Where’s that?” asked the innocent Billy.
“A place in the first car,” returned Lettie. “Let the other people haveyour dust.”
Suddenly the girls uttered a startled and chorused “Oh, my!” DanSpeedwell had sheered the car to the left, it darted ahead as thoughsuddenly shot from a gun, and in a flash had rounded and left behind theheavy touring car, and they were running second.
“Oh, Dannie!” gasped Mildred. “How did you do it?”
“Perry must have run backwards,” grunted Billy, with scorn. “Of course!We can’t get any speed out of this old wreck of a car. Ha! shoot it tothem, Dan!”
The Breton-Melville was humming like a huge top. The road flowed awaybeneath the wheels as though it traveled on a great spool in thedirection opposite to their flight. The girls caught their breaths andheld on with both hands.
In half a minute, it seemed, Dan had brought his car up till it wasnosing the rear of Burton Poole’s automobile. Wiley Moyle uttered astartled cry:
“What you going to do, Dan? Jump her?”