"What town is that?"
"Looks like a splotch of paint on a board fence, we went by so
quick."
"I've lost count, Bartholomew. Where are we?"
Ned Newton listened to these comments from the visiting
railroad men with delight. In reply to a question of his
neighbor, the grinning financial manager of the Swift
Construction Company paid:
"No, sir. That isn't a picket fence. It's the telegraph poles
you see, and they are no nearer together than on another
railroad. But we're going some."
"Bless my railroad stock!" shouted Mr. Damon, "I should say we
were."
The electric, locomotive and the private car were hurled toward
the Pas Alos Range at a speed that almost frightened some of the
guests.
"Three-quarters of an hour!" gasped one man as they began to
see the outskirts of Hammon. "And ninety-six miles? Great Scott,
Bartholomew! that's over two miles a minute!"
"That is the speed we set out to get," Mr. Richard Bartholomew
said, with quite as much pride as though he had done it all
himself.
But it had been his suggestion and his money that had
accomplished this wonder. Tom Swift was willing to give the
railroad president his share of the fame.
The train scarcely slackened speed at Hammon, for Tom got the
signal announcing a clear track ahead, and he bucked the grade
with all the power he could get from the feed wires. This hill,
so well known to him now, was surmounted at a slightly decreased
speed; but it was a wonderful display of power after all.
They went down the other side to Panboro and there linked up
with an eastbound freight that the Hercules 0001 snatched over
the mountain to Hammon at a pace slightly exceeding forty-five
miles an hour--at least twice the speed that any two oil-burning
locomotives could attain. As for the Jandels, they were not in
the same class at all with Tom Swift's locomotive!
"Bless my speedometer!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, when the train
pulled down and stopped again at the Hendrickton terminal. "This
is the greatest test of speed and power I ever heard of. Why, a
coal burner or an oil burner isn't in it with this Hercules
locomotive! What do you say, Mr. Bartholomew?"
"I'll say I am satisfied--completely and thoroughly satisfied,
Mr. Damon," said the president of the Hendrickton & Pas Alos
Railroad frankly. "Mr. Swift has fulfilled his contract in every
particular."
An hour later the young inventor and his two friends were in
conference with Mr. Bartholomew over a new contract. The bonus of
a hundred thousand dollars would be paid at once to the Swift
Construction Company. But as the elder Swift's name would be
needed on the new contract for the building of other Hercules
locomotives, Tom had an idea.
"We won't send the papers East for father to sign," he said. "I
want him to see the locomotive in real action. And I know where
he can borrow a private car and come out here in comfort. Rad can
come with him."
"Bless my valentines!" ejaculated Mr. Damon, "I bet somebody
else will come too."
Mr. Damon must have been a prophet, for a fortnight later, when
the borrowed car got in to the Hendrickton terminal at the tail
of the transcontinental flyer, Tom Swift saw first of all Mary
Nestor's rosy face on the platform of the car.
"Tom! are you all right?" she cried, beaming down upon the
young inventor.
"No. Half of me is left," he said, grinning up at her. "You
look great, Mary!"
"Do you think so?" she cried, dimpling. "Well, if anybody
should ask you, Mr. Tom Swift, you look very good to me."
"Don't make me swell all up, Mary," he laughed. "How's father?"
"Splendid! And Rad--"
"Eradicate Sampson is sho' 'nough puffectly all right," broke
in the voice of the old colored man, eager to make himself heard
and seen. "Here I is, Massa Tom. What dat lizard doin' here?
Ain't he a sight?"
The old man had caught sight of Koku in the wonderful new suit
Mr. Bartholomew had ordered made for the giant. A Navajo blanket
had nothing on that suit for a mixture of colors, and Koku
strutted like a turkey-gobbler.
"My lawsy!" gasped Rad again, "he's as purty as a sunset. Is
dat de way de tailors out here build a man up? Sure's yo live,
Massa Tom, I needs a new suit of clo'es myself."
And before he got away from Hendrickton, Rad Sampson sported a
suit off the same piece of goods as that of Koku's. Otherwise
there might have been a lasting feud between the giant and the
Swift's ancient serving man.
Mr. Barton Swift had stood the easy journey in the private car
very well. Before he would sign the contract that Mr. Bartholomew
offered, he wished to see for himself just how good his son's
invention was.
They made another test from Hendrickton to Panboro, over the
"official route," as Ned called it. The time made by Hercules
0001 was even a little better than before.
That the invention was well nigh perfect, and that it could do
even more than Mr. Bartholomew had hoped or Tom had claimed, was
Mr. Swift's conviction.
"Tom," he said to his son, "you have done a wonderful thing.
Not only have you completed a marvelous invention and gained
thereby a lot of money, and more in prospect, but you have aided
in the world's progress to no small degree.
"Speed in transportation is the big problem before the world of
commerce today. To move goods from point to point safely and
cheaply, as well as rapidly, is the great task of this age. We
are entering the Age of Speed. The railroads must solve the
problem to compete with motor-truck traffic and fast boats on the
lakes and rivers of our land.
"You have, by your invention, shoved the clock of progress
forward. I am proud of you, my boy. I know now that, no matter
what may happen to me, you will make an enviable mark in the
world of invention.
"You have done much before for the Government in time of
stress. But war engines of any kind are not worthy examples of
inventive genius beside such a thing as this.
"It is the inventions of peace, rather than those of war, that
stand for human progress."
Coming back over the mountain, Mary Nestor rode in the cab with
Tom. She sat on the swivel stool, in fact, and handled the
controls for part of the way. But she gave up the driver's place
to Tom before they reached the timber siding east of Cliff City.
"I cannot go by that place without a shudder," Mary said to the
inventor. "Ned and Mr. Damon told me all about that accident.
Suppose you had been killed, Tom!"
"I see I'll have to build an invention that will make that
impossible," chuckled the young fellow. "Make what impossible?"
"Some invention that will make it positively certain that no
matter what I do or where I go, nothing can harm me. Nothing else
will suit you, Mary, I plainly see."
"Well," returned the girl, smiling fondly at him. "I admit that
would satisfy me completely!"