A Knight on Wheels Part 37

Philip's foot came down upon the accelerator, and the long low car leaped down the hill. Philip's mind was suddenly and tensely clear.

There was only one thing to do, and the Meldrum Ought-to-Sc.r.a.p-It, Don't-You-Forget-It Brake would have to do it. Otherwise--!

"Lucky there's no sharp turn for nearly two miles," he muttered to himself between his locked teeth. "Pray G.o.d we meet nothing coming up the other way! Now to get past! My word, they are swinging!"

Next moment he was abreast of the flying car.

"Get right behind me, if you can," he shouted, "and I'll try to stop you."

The only response to this appeal was another swerve on the part of the runaway, in avoiding which Philip nearly cannoned into a tree at the side of the road. The gentleman with the beard appeared to have lost his head altogether. His efforts to avoid disaster were now limited to swearing volubly and blowing his horn. Philip noted that the side-brake was full on; but it seemed to have little effect in checking the car.

"Stick to your _wheel_, you fool!" he shouted with the full strength of his lungs.

The gentleman responded with a fresh outburst of vocal and instrumental exuberance. But suddenly, just as Philip shot ahead, the girl in the blue veil leaned over and gripped the wheel in her two hands. Her parent immediately relinquished his hold altogether, and devoted his undivided attention to the horn.

Then followed the fullest and most eventful minute of Philip's life.

He was ahead now--going perhaps fifty miles an hour, but clear in front of the other car. He knew he must act at once, for there was barely half a mile of straight road left, and there were two sharp turns at the foot of the hill. What he had to do must be done instantaneously, and called for superb driving. He wondered if the girl behind could hold on long enough to give him a chance. To steer a car steadily from any position except the driver's seat is a difficult enough performance, but to accomplish it when the seat is occupied by a gesticulating lunatic is almost a physical impossibility. Still, Philip had had time to note the prompt and decisive way in which this girl had grasped his purpose and carried out his instructions. He felt somehow that those small gloved hands could be trusted to cling gamely on until the end of all things.

Glancing back, he saw that the other car was now right behind him--seven yards or so. The moment had come--the inventor's moment.

"I told Timothy it would stop a motor-bus," he observed to himself.

"We'll see if it will stop two cars!"

The Brake was controlled by a switch upon the steering-pillar. The farther the switch was pulled over the stronger became the current which supplied the Brake's magnetic force. But it was not required yet. Philip hastily jammed on the side-brake, which, though it could not check, sensibly moderated the headlong speed of his car; and then, getting both hands back to the steering-wheel, braced himself, and leaning well back, waited for the impact of the runaway.

It came, but not too severely. By good luck or good management the pursuing car struck Philip's fairly and squarely in the back, and the two raced on together down the hill, locked together like engine and tender, the sorely handicapped little _chauffeuse_ behind exerting all her small strength to keep her leading wheels from slewing round. The shock of collision, coming where it did, sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing up Philip's spine.

"Oh, well done, well done, little girl, whoever you are!" he murmured enthusiastically. "That gives us a Chinaman's chance, anyhow. Now!"

He pulled the switch of the Brake slowly over, three parts of the way.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen; and then--oh, rapture--the rocking cars began to slow down. The Brake was answering to the call.

The strain was immense, but the work was good. On they tore, but more slowly and yet more slowly. They were barely going twenty-five miles an hour now.

Philip leaned hard back, gripping the wheel, and exulted. They were going to stop. The Brake was proved. Suddenly his eye caught a glimpse of a red triangle. They were coming to the turns--sooner than he expected, for the pace had been terrific, and the whole incident had barely lasted a hundred seconds as yet.

Well, they would just manage it, he calculated, provided that the smoking brake-shoes held out. They were running at a comparatively moderate pace by this time. A single car could have taken the approaching corner comfortably. The danger lay in the likelihood that the car behind would skid. Still, the little girl was steering like a Trojan. They ought to get off with a shaking at the worst.

Round to the left they swung. Philip, glancing over his shoulder, could see the girl behind frantically wrestling with her steering-wheel. Next moment they were round. She had succeeded. The road was almost level now, but the second corner was imminent, and in the reverse direction, for this was what was technically known as an "S" turn.

Philip pulled his brake-switch into the very last notch and put his wheel hard over to the right.

What happened next he never rightly knew. His car took the corner well enough. But then, instead of proceeding upon its appointed way, it continued to come round, and still farther round, in a giddy, sickening circle, until it threatened to mount the bank beside the road. Philip promptly spun his wheel over to the left, but all in vain. Next moment his car was right across the road; for the car behind, instead of following its leader round the bend, had pursued a straight course, pus.h.i.+ng the tail of Philip's long cha.s.sis before it. Philip could feel his back-tyres sliding sideways over the smooth asphalt. He felt utterly helpless. The Brake could do no more. It was not designed to prevent cars from running away laterally.

Suddenly there came a loud report. "Back tyre!" muttered Philip mechanically--and the car gave a sudden lurch to the left. Then, without warning, it turned completely upside down. The other car, like a victor who sets his foot upon the neck of the vanquished, mounted proudly on the wreck of its prostrate preserver, and there poised itself--stationary at last.

Philip, unable to free himself, went over with his car. "I rather fancy the old man must have been putting his oar in again," he said to himself, as the road rose suddenly up to meet him.

So the Meldrum Automatic Electro-Magnetic Brake was proved. When they examined the car afterwards it was found that though the brake-shoes were scorched and damaged beyond recall, the Brake itself was in perfect order.

The other car was hardly injured. Its occupants were unhurt.

But Philip did not know this. He had ceased to take any active interest in the proceedings.

Only for one brief moment during the subsequent twenty-four hours did he exhibit any sign of intelligence at all. This was when he woke up on his way back to London. He found himself lying in a smooth-running vehicle of some kind. The light was uncertain, and his vision was somewhat obscured by bandages; but he was dimly conscious that some one was sitting beside him--close beside him.

He made an inarticulate sound. Instantly the figure stirred and a face came very close to his.

Philip surveyed the face gravely, and remarked:--

"Hallo, Pegs!"

Then everything became blank again.

BOOK THREE

OMNIA VINCIT!

CHAPTER XXI

THE BIG THING

I

"NINE o'clock, sir."

The pert young housemaid entered Philip's bedroom, deposited a basin of hot water beside his bed, drew up the blinds, surveyed t.i.te Street, Chelsea, in a disparaging fas.h.i.+on, and announced that it was a nice day for the ducks.

Philip, gathering from this observation that the weather was inclined to be inclement, replied sleepily but politely that rain made little or no difference to his plans at present.

"I dare say," retorted the housemaid. "But it's me afternoon out. And please, sir," she added, recollecting herself, "Miss Marguerite wants to know if you are ready for your breakfast."

"Thank you," said Philip. "In a very few minutes."

When the housemaid had departed, he sat up in bed as completely as splints and bandages would permit, and prepared for breakfast. Then he lay back in bed and waited, with his eyes fixed unwinkingly upon the door.

Presently there was a rattle of silver and crockery outside, accompanied by a cheerfully whistled tune, and breakfast entered upon a tray.