Books: The Motor Boys on the Pacific
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Clarence Young >> The Motor Boys on the Pacific
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"Who?" asked Ned.
"Noddy Nixon. If that's his car, we haven't any show."
"Humph! I'm afraid not," answered Jerry rather ruefully. "Still, I'm
not going to give up now. He's got a new car, but maybe we can beat
him. He's a poor driver."
Several other autos soon appeared on the track to have a "tryout,"
and, though none of them seemed as speedy as Noddy's new machine,
there was no talk of dropping out on the part of those who had
entered. That gave the boys more courage, and they decided to stick,
even though their chances were not good.
Noddy did not speak to them, though he passed them several times. Nor
did he appear very popular with the other autoists. He had several
young men with him, and they made things rather lively about the
hotel, occasionally giving what seemed to be college yells.
"They're regular 'rah-rah' boys," said Bob, in contempt.
Early that afternoon just before the race Bob, Jerry and Ned spent an
hour in going over their car, making some adjustments, and seeing that
the tires were in good shape. Almost at the last minute Jerry decided
to put the non-skidding chains on the rear wheels.
"Those turns, which are not banked much, are dangerous," he said, "I'm
not going to take any chances. We don't want to turn turtle."
There was much activity about the hotel as the hour for the contest
arrived. Noddy's car seemed the finest of the six that lined up at the
starting tape. The motor boys had drawn a position next to the bully
and his cronies.
Noddy glanced contemptuously at them.
"You must think it's winter, putting chains on," he remarked to Jerry,
who had been chosen to steer.
"It may be a cold day for somebody before we get through," was all
Jerry replied.
"You haven't the ghost of a show," called one of Noddy's companions.
"You'll think you're standing still when we start."
The others laughed at this joke, and Noddy seemed pleased. There was a
short consultation among the judges and other officials, and, a moment
later, a white puff of smoke was seen hovering above the uplifted
revolver of the starter. Then came a sharp crack, and the panting
machines, the engines of which had been put in motion some time
previous, started off together, as the drivers threw in the high speed
gears.
The race, which was truly a dangerous contest, was on, and, with eager
eyes the motor boys looked ahead on the course.
CHAPTER III
NEWS FROM THE WEST
THE track was a half-mile one, and, as the length of the race was five
miles it would be necessary to make ten laps or circuits. The course
was in the shape of an ellipse, with rather sharp turns at either end,
where the contestants, if they did not want a spill, or a bad skid,
must slacken their pace. It was on the two straight stretches that
speed could be made.
At the report of the pistol Noddy's car shot off as an arrow from a
bow, the explosions of the cylinders sounding like a small battery of
quick-firing guns in action. But the others were after him, the five
cars bunched together, that of the motor boys a little behind the
other four.
"We've got to catch him, Jerry," whispered Bob.
"Easier said than done," replied Jerry, as he shoved the gasolene
lever over a trifle, and advanced the spark, thereby increasing the
speed of the car. "Noddy's got a powerful machine."
"They should have had a handicap on this race," said Tom Jennings, the
young man whom the hotel clerk had asked to be a fourth passenger in
the motor boys' car, so that the conditions of the contest would be
met. "It's not fair to have a high power auto race one of two
cylinders."
"Ours has four," spoke Ned. "Of course its not as up-to-date as
Noddy's is, but--"
"We'll beat him!" exclaimed Bob. "We've done it before and we can do
it again."
"I'm afraid not," went on Tom. "That big green car of his will go
ahead of anything on this track."
And so it seemed, for Noddy was spinning around the course at fearful
speed, his car looking like a green streak.
"Let's see how he takes the turn," suggested Bob. "He'll have to slow
up if he doesn't want a spill."
Noddy was wise enough to do this, though even at the reduced speed at
which he went around the bank, his rear wheels skidded rather
alarmingly.
But Jerry was not idle during this time. As he found his car
responding to the increase of gasolene and the advanced spark, he
shoved the levers still further over. The auto shot forward,
distancing the yellow car immediately in front of it, passing one with
an aluminum body and closely approaching a purple auto which was
behind Noddy.
Suddenly a loud explosion sounded back of the motor boys.
"There goes a tire!" exclaimed Bob.
"Hope it isn't one of yours," said Tom.
"If it was you'd be sliding along the track on your face instead of
sitting here," responded Bob. "No, it's one on the aluminum car. She's
out of the race," he added as he gave a quick glance back. A few
minutes later there was another noise-- a crashing sound-- and the
motor boys, by a quick glance, saw that the rearmost car in the race
had, by injudicious steering, been sent through a frail fence which
surrounded the track. The radiator was broken and, though no one was
hurt the car was put out of business. That left but four cars--
Noddy's green one, the yellow, the red one of the motor boys', and a
purple affair. They were speeding along in that order, and, a few
seconds later something went wrong with one of the cylinders of the
purple machine, leaving but three contestants. Then the yellow car
shot ahead of the red one containing the motor boys.
By this time one circuit of the track had been completed, and a start
made on the second lap.
"Think we're catching up?" asked Bob, as Jerry cautiously fed the
engine a little more gasolene.
"Well, we're holding our own," was the answer of the steersman, "and I
think we're catching up to the yellow car again. If we pass that I'm
not so sure but what we can come in a close second to Noddy."
"I don't want to come in second," spoke up Ned. "I want to beat him."
"So do I," replied Jerry, "but it's not going to be so easy. Our car's
doing well, but we can't expect wonders of it."
"The race isn't over until you're at the finish tape," said Tom
Jennings. "Keep on, boys, I'd like to see that Nixon chap beaten. He
thinks he owns the earth."
For two miles there was no change in the position of the cars. Then
slowly, very slowly, Jerry saw that his red machine was overtaking the
yellow car. Inch by inch it crept up, the steersman of the rival car
doing his best but failing to get more speed out of the engine.
"Too bad we have to pass you!" cried Jerry, as he careened past the
yellow machine.
"That's all right," sung out the steersman good-naturedly. "Beat that
other one, if you can."
"We're going to try!" yelled Ned, above the noise of the exploding
cylinders.
They were on a straight stretch then and, as Noddy looked back and saw
the red car closer to him than it had been before, he put on more
speed. His green auto shot forward but Jerry still had something in
reserve, and he let his machine out another notch.
"He's got to slow up for the turn!" cried Ned. "Maybe we can pass
him!"
"Yes, but we've got to slacken up too, if we don't want a spill,"
replied Bob.
"That's so," admitted Ned.
Noddy did slow up, but not much, and his car skidded worse than at any
time yet. It looked as if it was going over, and a cry from the
spectators showed that they, too, anticipated this disaster. But, with
a sharp wrench of the steering wheel, Noddy brought the car back
toward the center of the track.
Jerry swung around the turn at reduced speed, and, because of the
chains, his machine did not skid more than a few inches.
"Good thing you have those chains on," commented Tom. "They may come
in handy at the finish."
"That's what I put them there for," answered Jerry.
For another mile there was little change in the relative position of
the cars of Noddy and the motor boys. Jerry thought he had cut the
bully's lead somewhat, but he still felt that he was far from having a
good chance to win the race. Still, he was not going to give up.
"Two laps more and it's all over," said Bob, as they began on the
final mile. "Can't you hit it up a bit more, Jerry?"
"I'll try."
Just a degree faster came the explosions of the cylinders of the red
car. But also, still faster, came the reports from Noddy's auto. He
was not going to be beaten if he could help it.
Around the two machines swung, the yellow car having given up and
dropped out. There was a confused shouting from the spectators, and
Bob could distinguish cheers for the red auto.
"We've just got to win!" he cried. "Win, Jerry! Win!"
Try as he did, by "nursing" the engine, Jerry could not gain an inch
on Noddy's car. The red machine was fifty feet behind the green one,
both going at top speed. Only an accident, it seemed, could make the
motor boys win.
As they swung into the last lap Ned cried:
"Noddy isn't going to slow down for the turn!"
"Neither are we!" cried Jerry fiercely. "Quick boys! All of you get
out on the inside step! Crouch down! That will help hold us as we go
around the bank, or, otherwise, we'll go over."
They all knew what he meant. By hanging out on the runboard or step,
nearest the inside of the track, more weight would be added to that
side of the car. It was what automobilists call "shifting the center
of gravity," and aids in preventing spills.
Giving one glance to see that the boys were in their places, Jerry
grasped the steering wheel firmly, and sent the car at the dangerous
turn at full speed. Noddy was doing the same, but he had not thought
of having any of his passengers hang out on the step.
"Look out now, boys!" called Jerry, as they took the turn.
"Swing out as far as you can, boys, but hang down low!" called Tom
Jennings, who had been in races before.
Even with this precaution, and aided as they were by the chains on the
rear wheels, the red car skidded or slewed so that Jerry thought it
was going over. But it did not. By the narrowest margin it kept on the
bank.
Not so, however, with Noddy's green dragon. As soon as his car struck
the turn it began to skid. He would not shut off his power, but kept
on the high gear, and with the engine going at top speed.
There was a cry of alarm, and then the green car left the track,
mounted the bank, slid over the top, and came to a halt in a pool of
mud and water on the other side of the field. It went fifty yards
before Noddy could stop it.
"Go on! Go on!" yelled Ned. "We win! We win!"
Jerry had all he could do to hold the steering wheel of his slewing
car, but, by gripping it desperately, he swung it into place, and the
red machine started up the home stretch, crossing the tape a winner,
for it was the only car left on the track.
A burst of cheers greeted it, and men crowded up to shake hands with
the plucky boys.
"Glad you beat the 'mud lark,'" said the owner of the yellow machine,
thus giving Noddy's car a name that stuck to it for some time. "That
Nixon chap thought he was going to walk over every one. You taught him
a much-needed lesson."
Nothing was talked of in the hotel that night but the race, and the
motor boys were the heroes of the occasion. Noddy did not appear, and
it was learned that he had to hire men and teams to get his car out of
the mud.
The motor boys started for home the next day, and thought they were
going to make it in good time, but they had a tire accident on the
road, when about twenty-five miles away, and decided to stay in the
nearest village over night, as they had no spare shoe for the wheel.
As they left their car by the roadside, and tramped into the town, to
send word to the nearest garage, they saw a cloud of dust approaching.
"Here comes a car," said Bob. "Maybe we can get help."
As the machine drew nearer they saw that it was painted green, and, a
moment later, Noddy Nixon had brought his auto to a stop, and was
grinning at them.
"Had a break-down, eh?" he asked. "That's a fine car you have, ain't
it?"
"We can beat you!" exclaimed Ned.
"Yes you can! Not in a thousand years if I hadn't gone off the track!
Want any help? Well, you'll not get it, see? Bye-bye! I'll tell 'em
you're coming," and, with an ugly leer, the bully started off.
"I wouldn't take help from him if I had to walk ten miles without my
supper," said Bob firmly, and that was a strong saying for the stout
youth.
The motor boys found a good hotel in the village, and the next day,
when their car had been repaired, they resumed their journey, arriving
at home about noon.
"There's some mail for you, Jerry," said Mrs. Hopkins, as her son came
in, after putting the auto in the barn. "It's from California. I
didn't know you knew any one out there."
"Neither did I, mother. We'll see who it's from."
He tore open the letter, read it hurriedly, and gave a cry of mingled
delight and surprise.
"It's from Nellie Seabury!" he said. "She says they are in lower
California, traveling about, looking for a good place to stay at for a
few months for their father's health. When they locate she wants--
that is Mr. Seabury-- wants us to come out and see them. Oh, I wish I
could go-- I wish we could all go!"
"Perhaps you can," suggested his mother with a smile. "California is
not so far away. But I suppose you'll have to wait until next
vacation."
"Yes, I suppose so," admitted Jerry. "And that's a long ways off-- a
long ways."
"The time will soon pass," said his mother. "But tell me about your
auto trip. Did you have a good time?"
"Fine, and we beat Noddy Nixon in a great race."
"I wish you wouldn't have anything to do with that young man," said
Mrs. Hopkins. "You have nothing but trouble when you do."
"I guess he'll not want much more to do with us," returned Jerry. "We
manage to beat him every time. But I must go find the boys. This will
be great news for them-- this letter from the Seabury family."
"I thought it was from-- Nelly."
"So it is-- but it's all the same," answered Jerry with a blush.
CHAPTER IV
MORE LETTERS
JERRY found Ned, his nearest chum, at home, and told him of the news
from the west.
"That's fine!" cried Ned. "Come on and tell Bob."
"Don't have to," said Jerry. "Here he comes now."
The stout youth was, at that moment, walking along the street toward
Ned's house.
"Come on in!" cried Ned, as he opened the door while his chum was
still on the steps.
"That's what I was going to do," responded Chunky. "Did you think I
was going to sit out here? Of course I'm coming in. What's the
matter?" for he saw by Ned's face that something unusual had occurred.
"Jerry's got a letter from Nellie Seabury-- they're in lower
California-- we're going-- I mean they want us to come and pay them a
visit-- I mean--"
"Say, for mercy sakes stop!" cried Bob, holding both hands over his
ears.
"I guess Ned's a little excited," suggested Jerry.
"You guess so-- well, I know so," responded Bob. "Are you all done?"
and he cautiously removed his hands from his ears.
"Tell him about it, Jerry," said Ned, and Jerry told the news.
"It would be fine to go out there," said Bob, reflectively. "But
there's school. We can't get out of that."
They all agreed they could not, and decided the only thing to do was
to wait until the following summer.
"Too bad," remarked Bob with a sigh. "Winter is the best time of the
year out there, too."
In spite of the fact that they knew, under the present circumstances,
they could not go for several months, the boys spent an hour or more
discussing what they would do if they could go to California.
"Oh, what's the use!" exclaimed Ned, when Jerry had spoken of how fine
it would be to hire a motor boat and cruise along the Pacific coast.
"Don't get us all worked up that way, Jerry. Have some regard for our
feelings!"
"Well, let's talk about school. It opens Monday."
"Don't mention it!" cried Ned. "I say-- hello, there's the postman's
whistle. He's coming here."
He went to the door, and returned carrying a letter, the envelope of
which he was closely examining.
"You can find out from who it is by opening it," suggested Jerry.
"Here's a funny thing," spoke Ned. "This letter is addressed to my
father, but, down in one corner it says, 'May be opened by Ned, in
case of necessity.'"
"Well, then, open it," suggested Bob. "This is a case of necessity.
Where's it from?"
"Boston, but I don't recognize the writing."
"Open it," called Jerry.
Ned did so, and, as he read, he uttered a cry of astonishment.
"Well if this isn't a queer thing," he said. "Did you ever see such a
coincidence? This letter is from Professor Uriah Snodgrass, and listen
to what he says: 'Dear Mr. Slade, or Ned. I write thus as I want one
of you to read it in a hurry, and one of you may be away from home.
You remember the last I saw of you and your chums (this part is for
Ned) was in Florida. There I secured the rare butterfly I was looking
for, and, through that success I was able to obtain a position with a
Boston museum, to travel all over the world for them, collecting
valuable specimens. I have been here for only a few weeks, but I
already have a commission. I am soon to start for California, in
search of a Cornu batrachian.'"
"A 'Cornu batrachian'!" exclaimed Bob. "For the love of tripe, what's
that?"
"California!" murmured Jerry. "I guess the fates want to pile it up on
us."
"Say, is that 'Cornu batrachian' anything like a mountain lion?" asked
Bob.
"Wait," counseled Ned. "He explains. 'The Cornu batrachian,' he says,
'is what is commonly called a horned toad. I must get several fine
specimens, and I thought you boys might be making another trip, and
could go with me. I would be very glad of your company. Please let me
hear from you. My regards to Mrs. Slade.'"
"Well, wouldn't that tickle your teeth!" exclaimed Bob, more forcibly
than elegantly. "And we can't go!" he added with a groan.
"Think of the fun we'll miss by not being with Professor Snodgrass,"
went on Ned.
"And with the Seabury family," chimed in Jerry.
"It's tough!" exclaimed Ned. "And school opens Monday!"
At that moment there was a whistle out in the street and a ring at the
door bell.
"The postman again," said Ned. "I wonder what he wants?"
He went to the door.
"Here's a letter I forgot to give you," said the mailcarrier. "It got
out of place in my bundle, and I didn't discover it until I was quite
a way up the street."
"That's all right," answered Ned good-naturedly. "From the Board of
Education," he murmured, as he looked at the printing in the upper
left hand corner. "I wonder what they are writing to me about?"
He opened it and drew out a printed circular. As he re-entered the
room where his chums were he gave a cry of delight.
"Listen to this!" he called, and he read:
"'To the pupils of the Cresville Academy. It has been discovered,
at the last moment, that a new heating boiler will be needed in the
school. The tubes of the old one are broken. It has been decided to
replace it at once, and, as it will be necessary to do considerable
work about the building, thereby interfering with the proper
conducting of studies, the school will not open for another month,
or six weeks, depending on the length of time required to install a
new boiler.
"'Therefore pupils will kindly not report on Monday morning, as
originally intended, but will hold themselves in readiness to begin
their school work shortly after the receipt of another circular,
which will be sent out as soon as the building is in proper shape.
The faculty earnestly recommends that all pupils apply themselves
diligently to their studies during this unlooked-for, unfortunate,
but wholly necessary lengthening of the vacation season. By
applying to their respective teachers pupils will learn what
studies to continue.'"
"Whoop!" yelled Bob.
"O-la-la!" cried Ned after the fashion of some Eastern dervish.
"Say! That's great!" exclaimed Jerry. "A month more of vacation!"
"Now we can go to California with Professor Snodgrass, and help him
catch horned toads!" added Ned.
"And visit the Seabury family," supplemented Jerry. "Oh, boys, this is
simply immense! Things are coming our way after all!"
CHAPTER V
PROFESSOR URIAH SNODGRASS
THE sudden and unexpected news that they need not begin their school
studies on Monday morning fairly startled the boys, at first. They
read the circular over again, to make sure they were not mistaken.
"Why didn't I get one?" asked Bob, rather suspiciously.
"Probably it's at your home now," suggested Ned.
"And I ought to have one, too," said Jerry.
"You came away before the letter carrier arrived," went on Ned. "Maybe
you'd better go see. It might-- it might be a mistake-- or a joke."
"Don't say that!" exclaimed Bob. "I'm going to see if I have a letter
like yours."
"So am I," decided Jerry. "It might, as you say, Ned, be a joke,
though it looks genuine."
To make sure, Jerry and Bob hurried to their homes. There they found
awaiting them circulars, similar to the one Ned had. To further
convince them, as Jerry and Bob were returning to Ned's house, they
met Andy Rush, a small chap, but as full of life as an electric
battery.
"Hello!" he exclaimed-- "Great news-- no school-- boiler busted--
thousands of teachers killed-- great calamity-- fine-- horrible--
terrible-- don't have to study-- longer vacation-- steam pipes blown
out-- clouds of steam-- no heat-- freeze up-- burn to death-- great--
Whoope-e-e!"
"Did you ever take anything for that?" asked Jerry calmly, when Andy
had finished.
"Dasn't! if I did I'd blow up! But say-- it's great, isn't it? Did you
get a circular too?" and Andy showed one. "It's fearful-- terrible--
no school--"
"Come on," urged Jerry to Bob. "He'll give us nervous prostration if
we listen to him any longer," but they need not have hurried, for
Andy, so full of news that he could not keep still, had rushed off
down the street, hopping, skipping and jumping, to spread the tidings,
which nearly every Academy pupil in Cresville knew by that time.
Now the motor boys could discuss a Californian trip in earnest, for
they knew their parents would let them go, especially after Mr.
Seabury's invitation, and the letter from Professor Snodgrass. In the
course of a few days Jerry received another missive from Nellie
Seabury.
This letter informed Jerry, and, incidentally, his two chums, that
she, with her sisters and father, had settled in a small town near the
coast, not far from Santa Barbara, and on a little ocean bay, which,
Nellie said, was a much nicer place than any they had visited in
Florida.
"Father likes it very much here," she wrote, "and he declares he feels
better already, though we have been here only a week. He says he knows
it would do him good to see you boys, and he wishes-- in fact we all
wish-- you three chums could come out here for a long visit, though I
suppose you cannot on account of school opening. But, perhaps, we
shall see you during the next vacation."
"She's going to see us sooner than that," announced Bob, when Jerry
had read the letter to him and Ned.
"Did you write and tell her we were coming?" asked Ned, his two
friends having called at his house to talk over their prospective
trip.
"No, I thought we'd wait and see what Professor Snodgrass had planned.
Perhaps he isn't going to that part of California."
"That's so," admitted Bob. "Guess we'll have to wait and find out. I
wish he'd call or write. Have you heard anything more about damages
for our smashed boat, Jerry?"
"No, I saw Mr. Hitter the other day, and he advised me to wait a while
before writing again. Something queer happened while I was in his
office, too."
"What was it'?"
"Well, you remember the man who got off the Boston express that day,
and acted so strange about his boxes of stuff he wanted shipped to the
Pacific coast?"
"Sure," replied Ned and Bob at once.
"Well, through some mistake one of the boxes was left behind. Mr.
Hitter, had it in his office, intending to ship it back to the man,
for it wasn't worth while to send one box away out west, but it fell
and burst partly open. The box was in one corner of the room, and,
while I was there Mr. Hitter's dog went up to it and began sniffing at
it. All at once the dog fell over, just as if he'd been shot. He
stiffened out, and we thought he was dead, from having eaten something
poisoned he found on the floor."
"Was he?"
"No, after a while he seemed to come to, and was all right, but he
looked sick. Mr. Hitter said there must be something queer in that
box, to make the dog act that way, and he and I smelled of it, taking
care not to get too close."
"What was in it?" asked Ned.
"I don't know. It was something that smelled rather sweet, and
somewhat sickish. Mr. Hitter said it might be some queer kind of
poison that acted on animals, but not on human beings, and he put the
box up on a high shelf where his dog couldn't get at it. But I thought
it was rather queer stuff for a man to be sending away out to the
coast."
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