ON THE ROAD
"Then you have fully made up your mind to take it, Mr. Hamilton?" asked
the agent, of Dick.
"Yes, it is just what I want. I will wire my father to-night, and I'm
sure he will agree, though the price may be more than he first decided
on. But I'll make up the difference myself."
"Then I'll let Mr. Wardell know," for the former millionaire, after
declining an invitation to come to supper with Dick and his chums, had
left the auto show.
"Say, what about him?" asked Paul, when he got a chance. "Who is this
Wardell, anyhow?"
"Don't you remember," answered Dick. "That's the man Uncle Ezra came on
from Dankville to see--to clean up, in other words--take his money away,
you know. Don't you remember, Paul, hearing him tell about how a certain
party didn't know enough to hold on to his wealth, and all that?"
"Is this the man--this Wardell?"
"The very same one, I believe. He must be. It couldn't be that there
were two of the same name, both of whom had lost their fortunes at the
same time. Uncle Ezra ruined the man whose auto I'm going to take,
Paul."
"Well, I guess you're right, Dick. It's a strange coincidence. Are you
going to tell him it was your uncle who got all his money away from
him?"
"I certainly am not, Paul. It's not a thing to be proud of, and if I
keep him from finding it out until we get this car, and leave, I'll be
glad of it. Of course if he asks me I'll have to tell him. But I don't
believe he will. Larabee and Hamilton are different names, and Mr.
Wardell will not be likely to trace any connection, though he may.
"I thought sure you'd let out something about Uncle Ezra when you heard
the name Wardell, Paul."
"No, it didn't strike me. But then you know I wasn't in the room all the
while you and your uncle were talking. I don't recall hearing him
mention Wardell at all."
"Well, I did, and I was startled when I found out who this man was,"
went on Dick. "I suppose it's a sort of puzzle to you, Innis," the young
millionaire added, while the auto salesman was making out some papers
for Dick to sign.
"Somewhat, yes," admitted Beeby, and then Dick and his other chum
explained.
"Well, I know one thing I didn't know before," said Paul, as they were
ready to depart.
"What's that?"
"I know why this young Mr. Wardell was thinking of ending his life on
the railroad track that day you saved him."
"Why was he?"
"Because he'd lost his fortune," went on Paul in a low voice. "Just
think of it--a millionaire one week, and practically without a cent the
next! I suppose that's the way it sometimes goes with rich men who make
their living by speculation, but it's hard, just the same. And to know
he couldn't pay for this fine car he'd ordered--no wonder he was tired
of life."
"And to think that some member of my family was responsible," added
Dick. "It makes me mad! I hope he doesn't connect me with Uncle Ezra."
"Do you suppose your uncle took advantage of him?" asked Innis. "I don't
mean exactly that, either," he added hastily, thinking Dick might take
the question as a reflection on his relative.
"Oh, you can't fuss me--saying things about Uncle Ezra," laughed the
young millionaire. "While I don't believe he would do anything that was
unlawful--that is, as _he_ regards the law--I do think that he'd want
every last cent that he could claim by any stretch of the statutes. He's
a hard man, Uncle Ezra is, especially where money is concerned. I don't
just know what sort of dealings he had with this Mr. Wardell, but he
got his fortune, that's sure, and maybe by a trick, for all I know.
"That's why I'm not at all anxious to have it known that I'm Mr.
Larabee's nephew. I'm not at all proud of the connection, and I
certainly would feel bad to have Mr. Wardell know it. Legally Uncle Ezra
might be well within his rights, but morally I wouldn't be surprised if
he was a good way outside of them. But let's forget all about such an
unpleasant matter. I'll see when we can get this car, and try it."
A talk with the agent brought out the fact that Dick could take the big
auto at any time after the money had been paid down. It was not a part
of the regular auto show, and the space it occupied could be utilized by
other machines.
"Very well then," said Dick. "I'll probably hear from my father in the
morning. He'll likely send an order to his New York bankers to pay over
the money, and then the machine will be mine."
"And I congratulate you," said the agent. "It is a car to be proud of,
and if you intend making a long trip it will be just what you want."
"We'll go across the continent in her!" cried Dick. "Boys, are you with
me?"
"That's what!" exclaimed Paul and Innis.
They spent some more time in looking at the various exhibits, and Dick
sent his father a message from the telegraph office temporarily set up
in the Garden. Then they drifted back to the big car, which Dick had
christened _Last Word_, on learning that Mr. Wardell had tentatively
selected that title.
"It sure is a peach!" exclaimed our hero.
"Think you can drive it?" asked Paul.
"One of the company's engineers will be glad to demonstrate it on the
road for you," suggested the agent.
"Thanks," replied Dick. "I think I shall be glad to have a few lessons.
I can drive an ordinary car, but this is an extraordinary one."
Dick's anticipation of his father's action was confirmed next morning. A
telegram came, saying:
"Congratulations. Big car--big price. I'm satisfied if you are."
"That's like dad," remarked Dick.
"But he doesn't say anything about the money," remarked Paul, who was
anxious to have a ride in the big machine.
"Oh, trust dad not to overlook that part," spoke the young millionaire.
"We'll go see that agent. Probably he has already heard from my father."
And so it proved. Dick's purchase of the car was confirmed in a telegram
to the makers, and the information was added that Mr. Hamilton's
bankers had been instructed to send a certified check for the price.
"I have sent for one of our engineers," the salesman told Dick, when the
latter and his two chums visited the Garden after breakfast. "You can go
for a spin on the road this afternoon."
"Good!" cried Dick. "Get ready, fellows!"
Matters went through without a hitch. The price was paid over, and the
car formally became Dick's. Then the professional chauffeur arrived, and
after some manipulation the big touring machine was run out of the
Garden, while a crowd gathered around to see the novel sight.
"It looks almost as big as a Pullman coach," declared Innis Beeby.
"Well, let's get in and see if it rides like one," suggested Dick.
"Look at the auto swells!" cried a newsboy. "Hurray!"
"As long as our heads aren't swelled we're all right," remarked Paul.
The oil and gasoline tanks had been filled, and, after looking over the
various parts, the chauffeur got in, taking the driver's seat, the boys
disposing themselves comfortably on the long, leather-covered benches,
that would later be made into sleeping berths.
"Isn't he going to crank up?" asked Innis in some surprise, for the
motor was not running when the chauffeur took his place.
"You don't have to, on this car," the man explained. "It is a
self-starter. It has two systems--an electric motor, operated by an
accumulated current, that will turn over the engine, and even run the
car on its own power for some distance. Then there is also an acetylene
gas motor, so in case one fails the other will work. I'll start it by
electricity now."
He pressed a button on the dash. There was a low humming from somewhere
beneath the car, and then the gasoline motor took up the song of
progress. The machine vibrated with the power of the engine, until the
driver slowed it down. Then throwing in the gear, he let the clutch slip
into place, and the big machine glided slowly forward.
"We're off!" cried Dick.
"Like a charm!" added Paul. "I never saw a big car start so easily."
"This machine has a new style of clutch," explained the chauffeur.
"You'll find a number of the very latest wrinkles on her," he added with
a smile. "Now, where do you want to go?"
"Out toward the Bronx," replied Dick. "Get us into something like the
country--that is, as much as there is near New York," and soon they were
spinning ahead at good speed. It did not take them long to get in the
upper part of Manhattan, and a little later they were out on what might
be called a country road.
"This is great!" exclaimed Dick, as he gazed from the plate glass
windows of his touring car on the landscape that fairly flew past.
"It sure is!" agreed his chums.
"But wait until we start across the continent," went on the young
millionaire. "Then we'll have some real fun!"