Bert Wilson at the Wheel

by J. W. Duffield

Bert ran the “Red Scout” around to a small shed in back of the grandstand, and he and Dick made their final preparations. These consisted in taking off the hood, or bonnet, altogether, and removing the exhaust pipes from the motor. As Bert had already explained to Dick, this was done to eliminate any back pressure from the exhaust gases. Under ordinary conditions, this makes such a small difference in the power of a car that it can hardly be said to count, but in a race every ounce of power is required. This is done on every racing car, and that is why the explosions make such loud, sharp reports when the car is in action.

It need hardly be said that every boy in Mr. Hollis’s troop, except poor Fred, was present, and many were the anxious looks cast at Bert and Dick to see, if possible, how they felt about the outcome of the race. Both had been trained to have control of their feelings, however, and so outwardly they appeared to be very calm.

This was far from being the real state of their feelings, and both felt as though their hearts had suddenly become too large and were trying to get out between their ribs. They realized that it was not only their own reputation that would suffer if they were defeated, but the whole camp was involved. What would Mr. Hollis think of them if the other boys were victorious? What would the boys who had such blind confidence in them and the “Red Scout” do or say if the “Gray Ghost” won?

Such thoughts were demoralizing, however, and neither Bert nor Dick entertained them any longer than they could help. Into both their faces came that stern, resolved look that all the boys had seen at times and come to love, and in the minds of Tom and the others all doubts as to the final result vanished.

Meanwhile, Mr. Thompson’s troop had been giving the “Gray Ghost” its final touches, and now, at the sound of a mellow whistle, both Bert and Ralph cranked their motors.

None of the boys had ever heard the unmuffled exhaust of a racing car before, and at the savage roar that now issued from both cars all the boys fell back several steps with scared faces. As soon as they realized that the gasoline tank had not exploded, nor any other equally awful thing occurred, they came forward and tried to ask questions, but in the confined shed they could hardly hear the sound of their own voices.

Slowly the fire-spitting monsters were backed out of the shed, and their respective drivers swung them around and on to the track. They were greeted by a wave of cheering both from the boys and from the assembled farmers, and more than one burly countryman who had come to the “kids’ racket” under protest was seen to sit up straight and open his eyes wide.

No doubt many of them had expected to see a rather tame affair, and in fact few of them had ever seen an automobile race, or knew the tremendous speed of which a good car was capable, or realized the cool head and steady nerves required to control the condensed power of forty horses traveling at a speed of close to a mile a minute.

However, they were soon to experience a few of the thrills attendant on such an occasion. The two leaders had been holding a consultation, and now they approached the vibrating, eager cars.

Mr. Hollis was forced to shout to make himself heard above the din of the exhausts. “It is understood,” he said, “that this race is to be run from a standing start, and is to be for a distance of ten miles, or ten laps around the track. The cars must line up on the tape that we have stretched in front of the grandstand, and at the report of my pistol they are to start, each driver getting away as best he can. We have drawn lots for the choice of position, and the ‘Gray Ghost’ won, and is to have the inside position. Mr. Thompson and I will act as judges. Is that perfectly clear?” to Bert and Ralph.