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"Bless my gaiters!" cried Mr. Damon. "What is it? I hope the Happy Harry gang hasn't robbed you again; nor Berg and his men tried to take that treasure away from us, after we worked so hard to get it from the wreck."
"No, it isn't that," replied Mr. Swift. "The truth is that Tom thinks he has invented a storage battery that will revolutionize matters. He's going to build an electric automobile, he says."
"I am," declared the lad, as the others looked at him, "and it will be the speediest one you ever saw, too!"
CHAPTER III
THE MOTORCYCLE WINS
"Well, Tom," remarked Mr. Sharp, after a pause following the lad's announcement. "I didn't know you had any ambitions in that line. Tell us more about the battery. What system do you use; lead plates and sulphuric acid?"
"Oh, that's out of date long ago," declared the lad.
"Well, I don't know much about electricity," admitted the aeronaut.
"I'll take my chances in an airs.h.i.+p or a balloon, but when it comes to electricity I'm down and out."
"So am I," admitted Mr. Damon. "Bless my gizzard, it's all I can do to put a new spark plug in my automobile. Where is your new battery, Tom?"
"Out in my shop, running yet if it hasn't been frightened by the airs.h.i.+p smash," replied the lad, somewhat proudly. "It's an oxide of nickel battery, with steel and oxide of iron negative electrodes."
"What solution do you use, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift. "I didn't get that far in questioning you before the crash came," he added.
"Well I have, in the experimental battery, a solution of pota.s.sium hydrate," replied the lad, "but I think I'm going to change it, and add some lithium hydrate to it. I think that will make it stronger."
"Bless my watch chain!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "It's all Greek to me.
Suppose you let us see it, Tom? I like to see wheels go 'round, but I'm not much of a hand for chemical terms."
"If you're sure you're not hurt by the airs.h.i.+p smash, I will," declared the lad.
"Oh, we're not hurt a bit," insisted Mr. Sharp. "As I said we were moving slow, for I knew it was about time to land. Mr. Damon was steering--"
"Yes I thought I'd try my hand at it, as it seemed so easy,"
interrupted the eccentric man. "But never again--not for mine! I couldn't see the house, and, before I knew it we were right over the roof. Then the chimney seemed to stick itself up suddenly in front of us, and--well, you know the rest. I'm willing to pay for any damage I caused."
"Oh, not at all!" replied Tom. "It's easy enough to put on a new plane, or, for that matter, we can operate the Red Cloud without it. But come on, I'll show you my sample battery."
"Here, take umbrellas!" Mrs. Baggert called after them as they started toward the shop, for it was still raining.
"We don't mind getting wet," replied the young inventor. "It's in the interests of science."
"Maybe it is. You don't mind a wetting, but I mind you coming in and dripping water all over the carpets!" retorted the housekeeper.
"Bless my overshoes, I'm afraid we have wet the carpets a trifle now,"
admitted Mr. Damon ruefully, as he looked down at a puddle, which had formed where he had been standing.
"That's the reason I want you to take umbrellas this trip," insisted Mrs. Baggert.
They complied, and were soon in the shop, where Tom explained his battery. The small motor was still running and had, as the lad had said, gone the equivalent of over two hundred miles.
"If a small battery does as well as that, what will a larger one do?"
asked Mr. Damon.
"Much better, I hope," replied the youth. "But Dad doesn't seem to have much faith in them."
"Well," admitted Mr. Swift, "I must say I am skeptical. Still, I acknowledge Tom has done some pretty good work along electrical lines.
He helped me with the positive and negative plates on the submarine, and, maybe--well, we'll wait and see," he concluded.
"If you build a car I hope you give me a ride in it," said Mr. Damon.
"I've ridden fast in the air, and swiftly on top of, and under, the water. Now I'd like to ride rapidly on top of the earth. The gasolene auto doesn't go very fast."
"I'll give you a ride that will make your hair stand up!" prophesied Tom, and the time was to come when he would make good that prediction.
The little party in the machine shop talked at some length about Tom's battery. He showed them how it was constructed, and gave them some of his ideas regarding the new type of auto he planned to build.
"Well," remarked Mr. Swift at length, "if you want to keep your brain fresh, Tom, you must get to bed earlier than this. It's nearly twelve o'clock."
"And I want to get up early!" exclaimed the lad. "I'm going to start to build a larger battery to-morrow."
"And I'm going to repair the airs.h.i.+p," added Mr. Sharp.
"Bless my night cap, I promised my wife I'd be home early to-night, too!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I don't fancy making the trip back to Waterfield in my auto, though. Something will be sure to happen.
I'll blow out a tire, or a spark plug will get sooty on me and--"
"It's raining harder than ever," interrupted Tom. "Better stay here to-night. You can telephone home." Which Mr. Damon did.
Tom was up early the next morning, in spite of the fact that he did not go to bed in good season, and before breakfast he was working at his new storage battery. After the meal he hurried back to the shop, but it was not long before he came out, wheeling his motor-cycle.
"Where are you going, Tom?" asked Mrs. Baggert.
"Oh, I've got to go to Mansburg to get some steel tubes for my new battery," he replied. "I thought I had some large enough, but I haven't." Mansburg was a good-sized town, near Shopton.
"Then I wish you'd bring me a bottle of stove polish," requested the housekeeper. "The liquid kind. I'm out of it, and the stove is as red as a cow."
"All right," agreed the lad, as he leaped into the saddle and pedaled off down the road. A moment later he had turned on the power, and was speeding along the highway, which was in good condition on account of the shower of the night before.
Tom was thinking so deeply of his new invention, and planning what he would do when he had his electric runabout built, that, almost before he knew it, he had reached Mansburg, purchased the steel tubes, and the stove polish, and was on his way back again.
As he was speeding along on a level road, he heard, coming behind him, an automobile. The lad turned to one side, but, in spite of this the party in the car began a serenade of the electric siren, and kept it up, making a wild discord.
"What's the matter with those fellows!" inquired Tom of himself.
"Haven't I given them enough of the road, or has their steering gear broken?"
He looked back over his shoulder, and it needed but a glance to show that the car was all right, as regarded the steering apparatus. And it needed only another glance to disclose the reason for the shrill sound of the siren.