The manager said nothing and I viciously remarked: "Perhaps the
battery has run down. Some of these garages are so careless!"
He started to say something, and then evidently thought better of it.
After a moment he said: "Well, I simply do not understand it. You
saw for yourself that it worked perfectly two days ago?"
"Yes," I said, "it always works 'perfectly' immediately after
charging, but forty-eight hours later is 'dead.' The truth is the
thing is a failure."
"There will not be an American car on the market next year without
one. They all follow the lead of the 'Frontenac,'" he indignantly
replied.
"This one will not lead them far," I said, being by this time
thoroughly disgusted.
"Our chief engineer is in Scotland, but is returning to-morrow. If
you will leave the car here I will have him go over it from
headlights to brake, and he will find the difficulty. You say it
always runs till forty-eight hours after charging?"
"Yes, that has been my experience."
"How long since you first had this trouble?"
"About three weeks."
"Well, there is evidently nothing mechanically wrong. There is
probably a leak which we have not been able to locate, and there the
current escapes. If he cannot discover the trouble, I will cable to
headquarters at home and we will see if you are right, and the
invention is a failure. If you have made such a discovery, I should
not like to say how many thousands of dollars the company has lost.
But you may be sure the 'Frontinac' will scrap it quicker than they
installed it."
I had gone to the "Holland," which Ruth scorns, and I must say that,
in my frame of mind at the time, I did not find the voices of my
fellow countrymen soothing! A number of people were gathered in the
great room under the glass dome, having afternoon tea, when a small
boy appeared in the doorway and called out in a shrill voice:
"Mummer, pop says can't you get a move on?" Mummer was fat and slow,
but she did get the move on, and, what must have been a relief to the
rest of the company, her son did the same! I thought with regret of
the dear little children at Llandino, and wished we might devote a
little more time to voice culture. At that moment a page passed
through, saying very quietly--so different from our "paging" at home:
"Mr. Dobson, if you please; Mr. Dobson, if you please," and when he
came opposite where I was sitting, I did "please," and he handed me a
telegram. It was from Ruth, saying that she and her sister were at a
small hotel in Kensington, and asking me to join them. But of what
Ruth told me when I reached there I will tell you after I have
finished the story of the self-starter.
Three anxious days passed, and I again presented myself at the
garage. I noticed that every one who saw me grinned, which did not
make me feel better disposed toward the company. When the manager
appeared--he, too, was smiling--I said: "Have you found the trouble?"
"Oh, yes," he said, "the battery had run down."
"So I suppose," I replied, with biting sarcasm. "Have you found the
leak?"
"Yes, the engineer found it as soon as we told him that the battery
ran down forty-eight hours after charging."
"Will it work now?"
"Like new; would you like to try it?"
"Yes," I replied, but without enthusiasm. But I no sooner pressed
the pedal than the cheerful hum which had first attracted me was
heard, and the engine began to turn over.
"How do I know that it will work twenty-four hours from now?" I asked.
"You don't, but we will guarantee it, with reasonable care."
"All right," I said. "And now what do I owe you?"
"That depends upon you," said the cheerful manager. "If you will let
us publish this story in our trade journal, and sign your name to it,
we will gladly remit the bill."
"I don't think I understand," said I, with considerable dignity.
"What story?"
"The story of the car that was charged five times in two weeks, and
ran down each time forty-eight hours later."
"Well, what of it?"
"This of it. That I suppose it is the first time in the history of
motoring, in which _the headlights have been left on for three weeks,
burning night and day_!"
Yes, that is what had happened. The weather being continuously rainy
in Ireland, I had covered the headlights so snugly that no light
seeped through the covers, and then must carelessly have touched the
button which lights them, and so had been exhausting the current as
fast as it could be generated!!! I paid my bill and kept the story
for you!
The manager evidently felt he "owed me one," for, as he handed me the
receipt he said: "I am sorry you would not let us have that story to
print. I was thinking of calling it 'One Every Minute.'"