SPEED
Fortunately they met with very little delay in crossing the ferry, and Dr. Dale, in going through New York, avoided as far as possible the more congested thoroughfares. In a comparatively short time they had reached the outskirts, and Dr. Dale began to speed up a bit. As they reached the more open country, Dr. Dale opened the throttle wider, and the big car responded with a dash and power that delighted the boys. Mile after mile they reeled off, the wind whistling in their ears and making conversation difficult. The boys did not mind this, however, as they were enjoying the excitement of speed too much to have any desire to talk.
Slowing down for the towns, but speeding up again on the open road, the big car put mile after mile behind it, until the boys began to recognize the towns they passed through.
“Say!” yelled Joe, trying to make himself heard above the roar of the motor and the whistling 145 of the wind, “aren’t we making time, though? At this rate we’ll get home with time to spare.”
“You bet!” shouted Bob. “Isn’t this a peach of a ride?”
“Only about six miles more to Clintonia,” shouted Frank Brandon, from the front seat which he shared with Dr. Dale.
Most of that six miles consisted of new concrete state road as smooth and level as a billiard table. Up and up crept the speedometer needle, and the big car seemed to be fairly flying. Fences and trees flashed past them, and the smooth road seemed like a river flowing toward them. The boys were intoxicated with the wild thrill and exhilaration of speed, and laughed and shouted and pounded each other on the back. For several miles the speedometer needle never receded, and not until the roofs and church steeples of Clintonia were visible in the distance did Dr. Dale slacken pace and bring the big machine down to a sedate twenty-five miles an hour.
“Well, how did you like that?” he inquired, turning around for a moment to glance at the excited boys. “Was that fast enough to please you?”
“It was great!” declared Bob. “This car can certainly step along when you want it to.”
“We’ll be at my house in less than ten minutes. 146 I hope you all feel as though you could eat a little something.”
“Eat!” exclaimed Jimmy, in heartfelt tones. “Why, I’m so hungry I’ve been tempted to start in and eat the upholstery once or twice.”
“Please don’t,” laughed Dr. Dale. “It’s too expensive, besides being indigestible. Control yourself for a few minutes, and I’ll promise you something much better than leather to eat.”
“All right, then, I’ll do the best I can,” promised Jimmy, with a grin.
“We have to pass Antonio’s shoe repairing store before we get to Doctor Dale’s house, and if you like, I’ll get out and buy you a nice big chunk of sole leather, Jimmy,” suggested Joe. “If you really want something along that line, it seems a shame not to let you have it.”
“Thanks all the same, but I wouldn’t like to put you to all that trouble,” said Jimmy, with elaborate politeness.
Joe was about to protest that he would not mind the trouble in the least, but before he had time to the car drew up in front of Dr. Dale’s house.
Mrs. Dale was waiting for them on the front porch.
“I was beginning to get worried over you,” she said. “But I suppose you found it quite a long trip, didn’t you?” 147
“I can’t say that it seemed very long to us,” replied Mr. Brandon, smiling. “When you’re in a car, you don’t seem to think of the time much.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that myself,” she admitted. “But you’ve arrived in time for supper, and that’s the main thing. How did your young friend make out? Didn’t you bring him back with you?”
“No, they intend to include him in the bedtime programme for kiddies this evening,” explained Brandon. “It starts at seven o’clock, and Larry’s performance should come in about half past seven. We’ll just about have time to eat before we start listening for him.”
In a very few minutes they were all seated about Dr. Dale’s hospitable table, and it is hardly necessary to record the fact that they did full justice to their hostess’ cooking. As they neared the end of the meal, Dr. Dale glanced at his watch.
“I know it is considered very impolite to hurry one’s guests,” he said; “but just the same, it is so near now to the time that Larry is scheduled that I propose that we postpone dessert until after we have heard him. Then we can take our time, and do both Larry and the dessert full justice.”
They all acceded laughingly to this proposition, and a few minutes later filed into the room where the doctor kept his radio apparatus. His set was 148 equipped with a loud talking device, so that individual headphones were not necessary.
With a few touches he adjusted his coils and condensers, and had no difficulty in picking up the broadcasting station. At the moment some one was telling a “bedtime story” for the little folks, and, as it happened, this was the last thing on the programme preceding Larry’s act.
When the narrator had finished, there came a short pause, and then the familiar voice of the announcer.
“The next number on this programme will be a novelty, an imitation of various bird calls and songs, given by Mr. Larry Bartlett.”
The sonorous voice of the announcer ceased, and the little group in Dr. Dale’s house waited expectantly for the first notes of their friend’s performance.
“Hooray!” shouted Jimmy, as the first notes of the mocking bird’s song floated clear and true from the horn. “Hooray for Larry, the champion whistler of the universe!”
The others laughed at his enthusiasm, but they were almost as excited themselves. When at last their friend concluded his performance with a trill and a flourish, they all gave the three cheers that Jimmy had suggested, and wished they had a sending set so that they could congratulate Larry on the spot. 149
“That surely sounded well,” said Dr. Dale, when their delight had somewhat subsided. “This may be the beginning of big things for Larry, because it will not take him long to become known when he has an audience of somewhere around a half a million people every evening.”
“That’s true enough,” said Frank Brandon. “But it seems hard to realize that science has really made such a thing possible.”
“I’m ready to believe that nothing is impossible these days,” said Dr. Dale. “If I read in the paper some day that we had got into wireless communication with Mars, I should believe it easily enough. In fact, I’d hardly feel surprised.”
“I’m sure I shouldn’t,” agreed the radio expert. “A person has to have a receptive mind to keep up with these quick-moving times.”
“You’re right,” agreed Dr. Dale. “But now, as we’ve heard Larry and feel reasonably sure that his performance has been a success, I propose that we go back and have our dessert. Does that meet with your approval, Jimmy?”
“Does it!” exclaimed Jimmy. “I should say so. I never feel as though I’d really had anything much to eat unless I have dessert to top off with.”
“After the dinner you ate, I don’t really 150 believe you could feel hungry, even if you didn’t have dessert,” said Herbert.
“That must be just one of your phony jokes,” said Jimmy. “You know I was sitting beside you, Herb, and I felt pretty lucky to get anything to eat at all. Anybody within three places of you on each side doesn’t have much of a show, you know.”
“It’s no use you’re talking that way,” said Herbert. “Everybody here knows you too well, Doughnuts. You’ve got a reputation as an eats hound that you’ll never be able to live down.”
“Oh, well, I don’t care,” said Jimmy, soothed by the sight of a big apple pie that was on the table. “That’s better than having a reputation for making punk jokes like yours. If I eat too much, I’m the only one that gets a stomach ache from it, but your jokes give everybody a pain.”