The Man with Big Feet
The consultation in the private office of the Swift Construction
Company after the departure of Mr. Richard Bartholomew between the two
Swifts and Ned Newton had more to do with a vision of the future than
with mere present finances.
"I expect you know just about how you are going to work on this new
invention, Tom?" suggested the financial manager, and Tom's chum.
"Haven't the first idea," rejoined the young inventor, promptly.
"What do you mean?" ejaculated Ned. "You talked just now as though you
knew all about electric locomotives."
"I know a good deal about those that have been built, both under the
Jandel patent and those built for the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul in
the great Philadelphia shops.
"But when you ask me if I know how I am going to improve on those
patents so as to make my locomotive twice as speedy and quite as
powerful as those other locomotives--well, I've got to tell you flat
that I have not as yet got the first idea."
"Humph!" grumbled Ned. "You say it coolly enough."
"No use getting all heated up about it," returned his friend. "I have
got to consider the situation first. I must look over the field of
electrical invention as applied to motive power. I must study things
out."
"I don't just see myself," Ned Newton remarked thoughtfully, "why there
should be such a great need for the electrification of locomotives,
anyway. Those great mountain-hogs that draw most of the mountain
railroad trains are very powerful, aren't they? And they are speedy."
"Locomotives that use coal or oil have been developed about as far as
they can be," said Mr. Swift, quietly. "A successful electric
locomotive has many advantages over the old-time engine."
"What are those advantages?" asked the business manager, quickly. "I
confess, I do not understand the matter, Mr. Swift."
"For instance," proceeded the old gentleman, "there is the coal
question alone. Coal is rising in price. It is bulky. Using electricity
as motive power for railroads will do away with fuel trains, tenders,
coal handling, water, and all that. Of course, Mr. Bartholomew will
generate his electricity from water power--the cheapest power on earth."
"Humph! I've got my answer right now," said Ned Newton. "If there is no
other good reason, this is sufficient."
"There are plenty of others," drawled Tom, smiling. "Good ones. For
instance, heat or cold has nothing to do with the even running of an
electric locomotive. It can bore right through a snowbank--a thing a
steam engine can't do. It runs at an even speed. Really, grade should
have nothing to do with its speed. There is a fault somewhere in the
construction of the Jandel machine or the H. & P. A. would have little
trouble with those locomotives on its grades.
"Then, all you have to do to start an electrified locomotive is to turn
a handswitch. No stoking or water-boiling. Does away with the fireboy.
One man runs it!"
"Why!" cried Ned, "I never stopped to think of all these things."
"No ashes to dump," went on Tom. "No flues to clean, no boilers to
inspect, and none to wear out. And they say that on the Chicago,
Milwaukee & St. Paul, at least, their freight locomotives handle twice
the load of a steam locomotive at a greatly reduced cost."
"Sounds fine. Don't wonder Mr. Bartholomew is eager to electrify his
entire tine."
"On the side of passenger traffic," continued Tom Swift, "the electric
locomotive is smokeless, noiseless, dirtless, and doesn't jerk the
coaches in either stopping or starting. And in addition, the electric
locomotive is much easier on track and roadbed than the old 'iron
horse' driven by steam generated either from coal or oil."
"It is a great field for your talents, Tom!" cried Ned, warmly.
"It is a big job," admitted Tom, and he said this with modesty. "I
don't know what I may be able to do--if anything. I would not feel
right in taking Mr. Bartholomew's twenty-five thousand dollars for
nothing."
"Quite right, my boy," said Mr. Swift, approvingly.
"Never mind that," said the financial manager, rather grimly. "It was
his own offer and his risk. That twenty-five thousand comes to our
account."
Tom laughed. "All business, Ned, aren't you? But there is more than
business for the Swift Construction Company in this. Our reputation for
fair dealing as well as for inventive powers is linked up with this
contract.
"I want to show the Jandel people--to say nothing of the bigger
firms--that the Swifts are to be reckoned with when it comes to
electric invention. Other roads will be electrifying their lines as
fast as it is proved that the electric-driven locomotive has the bulge
on the steam-driven.
"In the case of the Hendrickton & Pas Alos there are very steep grades
to overcome. Supposedly an electric motor-drive should achieve the same
speed on a hill as on the level. But there is the weight of the train
to be counted on.
"The H. & P. A. has a two per cent. grade in more than one place. Mr.
Bartholomew confessed as much to me last night. The electric-driven
locomotive of the powerful freight type, which the Jandel people built
for Mr. Bartholomew, can make about sixteen miles an hour on those
grades, although they can hit it up to thirty miles an hour on level
track.
"His passenger locomotives turn off a mile a minute and more, on the
level road; but they can not climb those steep grades at a much
livelier pace than the freight engines. That is why he is talking about
two-mile-a-minute locomotives. He must get a mighty speedy locomotive,
for both freight and passenger service, to keep ahead of Montagne
Lewis's rival road, the Hendrickton & Western."
"You don't suppose it can be done, do you?" demanded Ned. "The
two-mile-a-minute locomotive, I mean, Tom."
"That is the target I am to aim for," returned his friend, soberly. "At
any rate, I hope to improve on the type of locomotive Mr. Bartholomew
is now using, so that the hundred thousand dollars bonus will come our
way as well as this first twenty-five thousand."
"That wouldn't pay for one engine, would it?" cried Ned.
"Nor is it expected to. The bonus has nothing to do with payment for
any model, or patent, or anything of the kind. To tell you the truth,
Ned, I understand those big locomotives used by the Chicago, Milwaukee
& St. Paul cost them about one hundred and twelve thousand dollars
each."
"Whew! Some price, I'll tell the world!" murmured the youthful
financial manager of the Swift Construction Company.
When the conference was over, and Tom had been through the workshop to
overlook several little jobs that were in process of completion by his
trusted mechanics, it was lunch time. He left word that he would not be
back that day, for this new task he was to attack was not to be
approached with any haphazard thought.
Tom knew quite as well as his father knew that the idea of improving
the Jandel patent on electric locomotives was no small thing. The
Jandel people had claimed that their patent was the very last word in
electric motor-power. And Tom was quite willing to acknowledge that in
some ways this claim was true.
But in invention, especially in the field of electric invention, what
is the last word today may be ancient history tomorrow.
It was because this field is so broad and the possibility of
improvement in every branch of electrical science so exciting, that Tom
had accepted Mr. Bartholomew's challenge with such eagerness.
Tom went back to the house for lunch, and as he joined his father in
the dining room he remarked to Eradicate:
"I want the electric runabout brought around after lunch. I am going to
Waterfield. Tell Koku, will you, Rad?"
"Tell that crazy fellow?" demanded the old colored man heatedly. "Why
should I tell him, Massa Tom? Ain't I able to bring dat runabout out o'
de garbarge? Shore I is!"
"You can't do everything, Rad," said Tom, soberly. "That is humanly
impossible."
"But dat Koku can't do nothin' right. Dat's inhumanly possible, Massa
Tom."
"Give him a chance, Rad. I have to take Koku with me this afternoon.
You must give your attention to the house and to father."
"Huh! Umm!" grunted Eradicate.
Rad was jealous of anybody who waited on Tom besides himself.
Yet he was proud of responsibility, too. He teetered between the pride
of being in charge at home and accompanying his young master, and
finally replied:
"Well, in course, you ain't going to be gone long, Massa Tom. And yo'
father does like to get his nap undisturbed. And he'll want his pot o'
tea afterwards. So I'll let dat irresponsible Koku go wid yo'. But yo'
got to watch him, Massa Tom. Dat giant don't know what he's about half
de time."
As Koku was not within hearing to challenge that statement, things went
all right. When Tom came out of the house after eating, he found his
very fast car waiting for him, with the giant standing beside it at the
curb.
"Get in at the back, Koku," said Tom. "I am going to take you with me."
"Master is much wise," said Koku. "That man with big feet will not hurt
Master while Koku is with him."
To tell the truth Tom had quite forgotten the supposed spy that had
attacked him the night before. He needed Koku for a purpose other than
that of bodyguard. But he made no comment upon the giant's remark.
They stopped at one of the gates of the works, and Tom instructed Koku
to bring out and put into the car certain boxes and tools that he
wished to take with him. Then he drove on, taking the road to
Waterfield.
This way led through farmlands and patches of woods, a rough country in
part. A mile out of the limits of Shopton the road edged a deep valley,
the sidehill sparsely wooded.
Almost at once, and where there was not a dwelling in sight, they saw a
figure tramping in the road ahead, a big man, roughly dressed, and
wearing a broad-brimmed hat. Somehow, his appearance made Tom reduce
speed and he hesitated to pass the pedestrian.
The man did not hear the runabout at first; or, at least, he did not
look over his shoulder. He strode on heavily, but rapidly. Suddenly the
young inventor heard the giant behind him emit a hissing breath.
"Master!" whispered the giant.
"What's up now?" demanded Tom, but without glancing around.
"The big feet!" exclaimed Koku.
The giant's own feet were shod with difficulty in civilized footgear,
but compared with his other physical dimensions his feet did not seem
large. The man ahead wore coarse boots which actually looked too big
for him! Koku started up in the back of the car as the latter drew
nearer to the stranger.
The man looked back at last and Tom gained a clear view of his
features--roughly carved, dark as an Indian's, and holding a grim
expression in repose that of itself was far from breeding confidence.
In a moment, too, the expression changed into one of active emotion.
The man glared at the young inventor with unmistakable malevolence.
"Master!" hissed Koku again. "The big feet!" The fellow must have seen
Koku's face and understood the giant's expression. In a flash he turned
and leaped out of the roadway. The sidehill was steep and broken here,
but he went down the slope in great strides and with every appearance
of wishing to evade the two in the motor-car.
The giant's savage war cry followed the fugitive. Koku leaped from the
moving car. Tom yelled:
"Stop it, Koku! You don't know that that is the man."
"The big feet!" repeated the giant. "Master see the red mud dried on
Big Feet's boots? That mud from Master's garden."
Again Koku uttered his savage cry, and in strides twice the length of
those of the running man, started on the latter's trail.