As they left the town, Mr. Strong opened the throttle a bit, and the car picked up speed until it was purring along at a good clip. They had much distance to cover, and while Mr. Strong was no speed maniac, still he considered this a good road gait, and held it steadily, hour after hour.
The country through which they were passing was hilly and heavily wooded, and at every turn of the road some new and beautiful view lay spread out before them. The powerful car swept up every hill with an ease that delighted the boys, and on the down grade Mr. Strong threw out the clutch and let the car coast. As the big machine swooped down into the valleys the sensation was that of flying, and the boys laughed and sang as the crisp air whistled past them. Mr. Strong was an expert driver, and the boys soon learned to have unbounded confidence in him.
After a while Mr. Strong resigned the wheel to Bob, who soon became familiar with the controls and piloted the big car with the skill and ease of a veteran. At first Mr. Strong watched him closely, but soon he decided that there was nothing to worry about, and settled back to rest and enjoy the country.
“It’s a great relief to have somebody along that can handle the car,” he remarked. “I thoroughly enjoy driving, but there are times when I feel like leaning back and looking at the scenery without having to watch the road. I don’t know how much driving you’ve done, but you’ve got the knack of it, all right.”
“Oh, I’ve driven Doctor Atwood’s machine, among others,” said Bob. “I could probably do a lot better if I got more practice, though.”
“Well, experience never hurt anybody,” said Mr. Strong. “After this trip, you’ll be an old timer at the game. You can drive a lot, if you want to.”
Needless to say, Bob did want to, and for the rest of the trip he and Joe drove fully half of the time.
The first night of the journey they stopped at a good hotel, and after a fine dinner they slept the sound sleep of tired travelers. The next morning they started at daybreak, with Shinneport, Maine, as their objective before nightfall.
This program called for some fast traveling, but both car and drivers were equal to the task, and after an exciting all-day flight through beautiful country, they reached their destination late in the afternoon. They had made the long trip from Clintonia without even a puncture, and the boys were enthusiastic in their praise of the car. Not even a shower had marred the perfection of the trip, and the boys felt that no one could make the journey in better style.
Mr. Strong had intended to stay in Maine only a few days, and then return to Clintonia. But the business that had drawn him there proved to be more complicated than he had supposed, and finally it began to look as though he could not leave within any reasonable time at all, which made it appear as though the Radio Boys would have to return by train. Quite unexpectedly, however, another and even more fascinating trip presented itself.