A CRASH IN THE DARKNESS
“Does it interest us?” repeated Bob. “I should say it did!”
“Automobile is my middle name,” remarked Joe.
“Just when we were wondering what we could do with the rest of our
vacation!” exclaimed Jimmy, jubilantly.
“Comes right in the nick of time,” affirmed Herb.
The boys bombarded Doctor Dale with eager questions, but the doctor
was adamant and reiterated his suggestion that they should remove
the marks of battle. This was considerable of a task, after the
furious scrimmage with Buck and Lutz; but they did it, and had
repaired the damage to the lead-in wire and were back in the living
room of the parsonage and starting to tune up the radio set again
when the doorbell rang.
The doctor himself answered the summons, and promptly ushered the
newcomer into the room. No introductions were needed, for all the
boys knew Mr. Strong well. He was a parishioner of Doctor Dale’s,
one of the leading men of the town and an especially close friend of
Joe’s father, who was his family physician.
“At the radio, I see,” Mr. Strong remarked, with a genial smile, as
he took the chair that the doctor drew out for him.
“Trying out a new set,” said the doctor. “You’re just in time to see
how it works.”
Mr. Strong himself was a radio enthusiast, and he shared with the
boys the interest elicited by the very satisfactory way in which the
set worked. Several selections from that evening’s program were
received with special sweetness and clearness which justified all
the doctor’s predictions.
The Radio Boys, however, paid less attention to it than they would
otherwise have done, for their minds were full of the hint that the
doctor had given to them about the prospective tour. For the moment,
that was the real question of the evening and eclipsed everything
else in importance.
Perhaps a little tinge of mischief caused their host to prolong the
concert as he did, but at last he took pity on their impatience and
broached the subject that was uppermost in their minds.
“I haven’t forgotten the splendid fight you boys put up to save the
property of the Old First Church in those forest fires on Spruce
Mountain,” he began, looking around on the eager group. “Ever since
that time I’ve been casting around to see if I couldn’t do something
to cancel the debt.”
“There’s no debt at all,” put in Bob. “We were only too glad to do
what we did, and we never had any thought of payment.”
“I know that perfectly well,” replied the doctor. “But all the same,
it saved the church property, and I am exceedingly grateful. Lots of
boys in your predicament would have thought of nothing but saving
their own skins.
“The other day, Mr. Strong was speaking to me of an automobile trip
he was planning to the coast of Maine, partly for pleasure, but
chiefly for business reasons. He has a big seven passenger car, and
as he is a sociable soul”—here he smiled at the visitor, who waved
his hand deprecatingly—“he said he hated the thought of taking the
long trip alone. Immediately the thought of you boys came into my
head, and I suggested that he take you along. He took to the idea at
once and said that nothing would give him greater pleasure. So there
you are, if you want to go.”
The glad chorus of thanks and eager acceptance that broke from the
group left no doubt on that score.
“Of course, we’ll have to get the consent of our folks,” said Bob.
“But I’ve no doubt they’ll be willing.”
“That’s all been attended to,” replied the smiling doctor. “I’ve
been to see every one of them in advance, so that there’d be nothing
to mar the pleasure of the surprise.”
“Doctor Dale!” exclaimed Bob impulsively, “you’re a bri—” he was
going to say a “brick,” but thought this would hardly suit the
doctor’s dignity, and ended rather lamely “the real thing.”
For the rest of the evening, radio had to take second place, while
the whole party discussed routes, stopping places, and all the other
things that go to make up a successful tour. Mr. Strong had his road
book with him, and before the boys left Doctor Dale’s house a
tentative plan for the trip had been sketched out.
They were to start at dawn on the following Monday morning, and the
interval was a busy one for the Radio Boys. Many things had to be
bought and packed. But by Sunday evening everything was ready. It
had been agreed that they should all go to Doctor Dale’s house,
where Mr. Strong would call for them with his machine.
Jimmy was the first one to arrive on Monday morning, and got Doctor
Dale out of bed while it was still dark. The good-natured pastor did
not mind, however, as he had expected to get up early to see them
off. It was not long before the other boys arrived, and promptly at
six o’clock Mr. Strong’s machine swung around the corner. The boys
said good-by to the doctor, climbed in, and the trip had begun.
It was a beautiful, clear morning, and as the sun rose and flooded
the landscape with brilliant sunshine, the boys felt that life had
little better than this to offer. Fine weather, a clear road, a good
car—what more could any healthy boy desire?
As they left the town, Mr. Strong opened the throttle a bit, and the
car picked up speed until it was purring along at a good clip. They
had much distance to cover, and while Mr. Strong was no speed
maniac, still he considered this a good road gait, and held it
steadily, hour after hour.
The country through which they were passing was hilly and heavily
wooded, and at every turn of the road some new and beautiful view
lay spread out before them. The powerful car swept up every hill
with an ease that delighted the boys, and on the down grade Mr.
Strong threw out the clutch and let the car coast. As the big
machine swooped down into the valleys the sensation was that of
flying, and the boys laughed and sang as the crisp air whistled past
them. Mr. Strong was an expert driver, and the boys soon learned to
have unbounded confidence in him.
After a while Mr. Strong resigned the wheel to Bob, who soon became
familiar with the controls and piloted the big car with the skill
and ease of a veteran. At first Mr. Strong watched him closely, but
soon he decided that there was nothing to worry about, and settled
back to rest and enjoy the country.
“It’s a great relief to have somebody along that can handle the
car,” he remarked. “I thoroughly enjoy driving, but there are times
when I feel like leaning back and looking at the scenery without
having to watch the road. I don’t know how much driving you’ve done,
but you’ve got the knack of it, all right.”
“Oh, I’ve driven Doctor Atwood’s machine, among others,” said Bob.
“I could probably do a lot better if I got more practice, though.”
“Well, experience never hurt anybody,” said Mr. Strong. “After this
trip, you’ll be an old timer at the game. You can drive a lot, if
you want to.”
Needless to say, Bob did want to, and for the rest of the trip he
and Joe drove fully half of the time.
The first night of the journey they stopped at a good hotel, and
after a fine dinner they slept the sound sleep of tired travelers.
The next morning they started at daybreak, with Shinneport, Maine,
as their objective before nightfall.
This program called for some fast traveling, but both car and
drivers were equal to the task, and after an exciting all-day flight
through beautiful country, they reached their destination late in
the afternoon. They had made the long trip from Clintonia without
even a puncture, and the boys were enthusiastic in their praise of
the car. Not even a shower had marred the perfection of the trip,
and the boys felt that no one could make the journey in better
style.
Mr. Strong had intended to stay in Maine only a few days, and then
return to Clintonia. But the business that had drawn him there
proved to be more complicated than he had supposed, and finally it
began to look as though he could not leave within any reasonable
time at all, which made it appear as though the Radio Boys would
have to return by train. Quite unexpectedly, however, another and
even more fascinating trip presented itself.
Mr. Strong found that business made it necessary for him to go at
once to Halifax. When this became a certainty, he offered to take
the boys with him, provided they could get their parents’ consent.
Of course, they jumped at the chance, and for a few hours afterward
kept the wires hot with telegrams to the home folks. Finally consent
was gained, and it was a jubilant quartette that conveyed the news
to Mr. Strong.
“That’s fine, boys,” said he, heartily. “I hated to think of the
trip ending with a train ride home. I’ll get the boat tickets, and
we’ll start for Halifax about noon tomorrow.”
He took out his watch, which was without a chain, and in some way it
slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. With a regretful
exclamation, Bob jumped to pick it up.
Mr. Strong examined the watch ruefully, shook it and put it to his
ear.
“Done for, I guess, until a jeweler repairs it,” he remarked. “I
hardly know how to do without one.”
“Use mine,” volunteered Bob, taking from his pocket the beautiful
watch he had received on his last birthday.
“I don’t want to rob you,” said Mr. Strong, hesitating. But Bob
insisted so strongly that he at last acquiesced.
“Didn’t think you’d ever let that watch go out of your hands, Bob,”
said Joe, when they were alone, for he knew how highly his chum
prized it.
“I wouldn’t ordinarily,” replied Bob. “But Mr. Strong’s been so kind
to us that it’s little enough to do for him. He’ll need it only till
he gets his own watch fixed.”
“But he can’t get that done at once.”
“No; but what of that? It’s all right. And Mr. Strong can have
anything I have. If it were your watch, you’d feel the same.”
“I suppose so,” agreed Joe.
The next day the boys found themselves on board a steamer bound for
the Canadian port. They could hardly believe in their good fortune,
and Jimmy declared that he expected to wake up any moment and find
it all a dream.
They made friends with the radio operator, which was not difficult
when the latter found how keenly they were interested in the
science. Each of them was allowed to receive one of the messages in
international code, and they enjoyed the experience hugely.
All went well, and the Radio Boys were enjoying themselves
thoroughly, until, along toward evening, the steamer ran into one of
the heavy fogs common in those waters. The vessel was forced to
proceed at reduced speed, and there was an air of suppressed anxiety
among officers and crew.
Few among the passengers thought much of the matter, and those who
did expected that the fog would lift soon. The boys went to their
staterooms at the usual time without any thought of real peril in
their minds.
But danger was abroad on the face of the waters.
It seemed to Bob that he had hardly fallen asleep when he was rudely
awakened by a terrific crash that almost threw him out of his berth.