I could not imagine what had happened. The brakes were new, and
while the chauffeur at the "Beeches" had warned me that they were too
light, I thought that was because he did not understand the
difference there is in weight between an English and an American car.
As I say, I could not understand it. The car had behaved as if it
were alive--like a high-spirited horse, "full of beans," who had
taken the bit into its teeth and bolted.
I descended and took a good look at every part of the machine. I
found that the foot-brake was in order, _but the emergency brake had
not been touched_. I have no doubt that such a student of the
"subconscious" as yourself has already discovered the answer to the
riddle. Yes, you are right! It was Sir Thomas's foolishness in
talking about the "fourth speed," as I was leaving, that had lodged
in my subconscious mind and led me to pull, not the emergency brake,
but the fourth-speed lever!
I asked a laborer, plodding home to his dinner, the name of the
little hamlet at the top of the hill. He answered: "Sawley."
"Why, that can hardly be," I replied. "I passed Sawley soon after
leaving Ripon."
"Ay," he replied, "there be two of 'em."
"Well, one is enough for me," I answered.
He made no reply; simply stared at me as if he thought I was a fool.
I guess he was right!
The motor-car has completed the work begun by the bicycle of breaking
down "the middle wall of partition" which divided Englishmen from
strangers. The motor is a letter of introduction to every owner. At
the inn where we stopped for lunch were a young couple who, like
ourselves, were making a trip, and when I asked some question about
roads they opened their maps and not only gave us the desired
information but also a valuable "tip," from which I learned on
authority what otherwise I could have learned only by
experience--that is, by loss of time and labor.
My new friend, for such I must call him, was much interested on
learning we had come so far, and expressed a wish to see an American
car. He was greatly impressed by the "self-starter," but
insisted--as did every other Englishman who spoke to me on the
subject--that the car was too light to stand up as an English car
does. He also said that he had been told that the American brakes
were not to be depended upon.
This led to a confession of my folly of the morning. I should have
thought twice before telling it to a fellow countryman, for he would
have thought it a high joke, and have "rubbed it in." But this
serious young man was filled with horror at our narrow escape from
death, and was altogether sympathetic. This led him to give me the
"tip" of which I have spoken. It was very simple: "In descending a
hill," said he, "judge its angle of descent and adjust your gear
accordingly, then switch off the current, let in the clutch, and the
engine will act as a brake. You will always have the brakes in
reserve, but seldom use them. I have been over the highest passes of
the Alps, with the exception of the Stelvio, without touching the
brake."
"All's well that ends well," but I wish I might have known this
simple rule earlier in the day!