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TWICE-A-MONTH
WIDE-AWAKE
MAGAZINE
Edited by Burt L. Standish
Volume IV CONTENTS FOR JANUARY 10, 1916 Number 3
ONE NOVELETTE
The Speedway of Fate Franklin Pitt 1
TWO CONTINUED STORIES
Frank Merriwell, Jr., At Fardale. From the leaves of Frank
Merriwell’s notebook 33
A Four-Part Story—Part Two.
Trooper Stewart, Substitute H. E. Williamson 58
A Three-Part Story—Part Three.
FIVE SHORT STORIES
Skates, Skis, and a Saphead William Wallace Cook 71
The Basket-Ball Boss Leslie W. Quirk 85
Clem Frobisher’s Man-sized Job Allan Hawkwood 99
The Shock Grant Trask Reeves 111
Cap’n Dan’s Son Bernard Teevan 119
MISCELLANEOUS
Some New Inventions 32
Some Interesting Facts 84
Entombed Miners Rescued 110
Unique Names for Creeks 118
Odd Bits of News 124
Youngest University Student 128
Applause 125
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TWICE-A-MONTH
Wide-Awake
Magazine
EDITED BY BURT L. STANDISH
Vol. IV. January 10, 1916. No. 3.
The Speedway of Fate
By Franklin Pitt
CHAPTER I.
Quarter-Mile Bend.
REALLY there could be no question that the car had got away from her.
Stanley Downs, driving his high-powered Archimedes down the winding
mountain road, had noticed the girl eight or ten miles back, and had
admired the ease with which she managed the rakish six-cylinder in the
many difficult spots, where strength, as well as skill, was demanded to
keep the road.
She was a slim, bright-faced young woman. He knew that, because he had
had one good look at her pretty face as she swung around a “hairpin
turn” and passed him on the lower road, while he traveled to the bend
on the upper.
He had taken a chance in looking sideways while preparing to negotiate
the cruel bend with his own car. He should have kept his attention
straight ahead, without regard to any girl, pretty or otherwise, who
might be passing two hundred feet away, and who certainly was paying no
attention to him.
“That’s a Fanchon she’s driving, Karl,” remarked Stanley to his
chauffeur, who sat idly by his side. “It’s a new car, and I don’t
know whether it is dependable or not. It has speed, and the lines are
graceful and strong. But until a car has been well tried out, you never
know where a weakness will develop.”
“The Fanchon’s a good car,” pronounced Karl briefly.
“Glad you know that, Karl, because it—— Hello! What does that mean?”
Karl suddenly came to life, as, when they got around the bend, he, as
well as Stanley, saw that the Fanchon was moving faster and faster,
and, moreover, was swaying from side to side in a wild manner, which,
to their experienced eyes, told its own story.
“Something’s slipped, Karl. She’s lost control.”
“She sure has! And there’s the lake and bridge at the end of the short
quarter-mile turn! She can’t make the bridge at that speed.”
“Of course she can’t!” returned Stanley excitedly, as he opened up his
own gas a few notches. “There’s an ugly twist there. Merciful Heaven!
If she strikes the bend like that, only one thing can happen. She’ll
shoot into fifty feet of water.”
“Unless she hits the stonework of the bridge approach. Then——”
“Shut up!” snapped Stanley. “We can’t let her do it! We have five
miles. In that distance, we ought to be able to help.”
Karl did not reply. He knew how quickly five miles can be covered in an
automobile.
Stanley drove faster and faster. The girl had nearly got to the next
bend, which was one of the awful “S” turns. He saw that she was bending
low over her wheel, prepared to serpentine her way around at full
speed, if it could be done.
“The Lord send that she doesn’t meet anything!” murmured Stanley, as he
put on more power. “What are we doing, Karl?”
“Fifty,” replied Karl, glancing at the speedometer.
“Fifty miles an hour! Well, we’ll have to go up to sixty—perhaps more.”
Stanley Downs gritted his teeth, forced his car up to sixty miles an
hour, and then reduced the speed to thirty. They were approaching the
“S.”
The girl was just running out of it, her car rocking awfully as she
reached the straight.
“Well, she’s out of that,” remarked Stanley. “I was afraid she’d never
do it. By Jove, she’s some driver!”
The Archimedes, being under control, went through the “S” safely at
forty miles an hour. Then Stanley Downs set himself to catch the other
car.
He was not clear as to what he would do if he did catch it. But he was
resolved to do _something_. There was another sharp bend ahead, close
to the broad lake, with its stone wall and many boat landings. After
that came another twist, taking the road straight upon the long bridge
that crossed the water.
As the Fanchon whizzed around on two wheels, Stanley saw that the fair
driver was leaning far to one side, to throw the weight of her body
against the inclination of the car to tip over. She was game to the
core. Stanley Downs would have sworn to that.
“Doesn’t seem scared!” shouted Karl, above the roaring of the car, as
it gathered more speed.
“Nerve of pure steel!” replied Stanley, through his clenched teeth.
“Karl!”
“Well?”
“Get ready to take this wheel—without stopping the car.”
“Great Scott! That’s going to be some stunt,” declared Karl, but
loosening himself up at the same time, ready to obey. “What’s the idea?”
“You see that we are getting to that last twist in the road, the
quarter mile?”
“Sure! All right! Ready to do it now?”
“Just a moment. Wait till I get my feet clear, so that I can swing out
as you go in behind the wheel. Get me?”
“Yes.”
The two cars were not far apart now. The girl was holding to the
steering wheel with a desperate grip, her feet on the pedals, trying
to make the foot brake hold. The emergency hand brake had given out
long ago, and the other seemed to have hardly any power. But she was
fighting every inch to regain control.
By this time, a score of people, who had been strolling along the
high-terraced walk above the roadway, which overlooked the lake, were
watching the two great cars swirling down toward the quarter-mile turn.
They were accustomed to seeing cars moving at a good speed, after
safely negotiating this difficult bend, but it was unusual for machines
to approach it in this headlong fashion.
At each of the bends was a gigantic signboard, painted a terrifying
red, bearing the word “Danger!” in white letters two feet long, and
with the additional caution, in rather smaller characters: “Sharp curve
ahead! Drive slow!”
There was hardly time for the spectators to express their horror at the
catastrophe that seemed imminent, when the two cars swept along side by
side.
“Now!” shouted Stanley.
He knew that he could depend on Karl. That rather taciturn young man
had proved his courage and intelligence on other occasions. It was his
habit to do what came his way without making much fuss about it, and if
the task menaced his safety, or even his life, why, it was all in the
day’s work.
“Ready, sir!” replied Karl.
“All right! Come!”
Stanley slid along the seat from behind the wheel, and immediately Karl
was in his place, recovering the slight divergence of the car that had
been caused by the change of guiding hands.
It was now that Stanley Downs had a good view of the girl’s face.
It could not be said that she was not frightened. But certainly her
apprehension had not interfered with the masterly manner in which she
managed the steering wheel. She was staring straight ahead of her, and,
as she whirled around the quarter-mile bend, she endeavored to get the
car headed up the road.
But there was another hairpin curve—called so because the two roads ran
almost parallel, like the legs of a hairpin—and the car would have to
swing completely around, running in the opposite direction, if it were
to avoid the lake.
“She can’t make it!” exclaimed Karl.
Stanley Downs said nothing. Karl had been obliged to let the Fanchon
push a little ahead in rounding the bend, to avoid a collision,
and Stanley was standing on the seat by the side of the chauffeur,
balancing himself perilously on the leather cushion, with his eyes
fixed on the girl.
He motioned with his arm to Karl to draw closer to the other car.
They were within a hundred yards of the edge of the lake, and charging
straight toward it.
As Karl brought the two cars within a yard of each other, Stanley
leaped across the gap and into the front seat of the Fanchon.
What followed happened too quickly to be described in detail.
With a savage tug, he dragged the girl away from the wheel, at the same
time kicking open the door. Then he seized the wheel with both hands
as he stood by the side of it, and wrenched it so hard that the car
swerved until it seemed as if it might run along the road at the very
edge of the water.
The wrench was not quite enough, however. Its only effect was to
prevent its going straight into the lake. Instead, it shot off
diagonally, and with the car went Stanley Downs and the girl.
The tremendous splash caused by the diving in of the Fanchon was
followed instantly by another, as the Archimedes, with Karl at the
wheel, plunged off the stone wall, and, turning a complete somersault,
disappeared beneath the surface.
Only a number of bubbles in the center of two rapidly spreading series
of rings, told the frantic people, who had rushed to the edge of the
lake, that two cars, with three human beings, had sunk there.
Then the cap of the chauffeur, still on his head, where it was fastened
by a chin strap, showed above the surface, as Karl swam toward a wooden
boat landing.
Where were the other two—Stanley Downs and the girl?
The question was soon answered. Stanley and the girl came up together.
There was a streak of red across the forehead and cheek of the young
man. But the beautiful face that lay against his shoulder was a dead
white, and the eyes were closed.
Stanley Downs was pale himself, and there was a dazed expression in his
eyes as he shook the water out of them and looked about for the shore.
In another moment he obtained a grip on himself, and struck out for the
boat landing, where Karl was by this time being helped out.
It was with difficulty that Stanley swam the short distance. He had
received a nasty knock as he broke away from the car under water, and
it had weakened him. Moreover, he had the weight of the girl he was
bringing to shore. She was unable to help herself. All she could do was
to lie prone on his arm, her brown hair rippling over the water, and
one small gauntleted hand resting on his shoulder and against his cheek.