The Boy Inventors Radio Telephone | Page 2

and turns a constant stream of 'juice' into the storage batteries that, in turn, feed the engines."
"Yes, that's all plain enough," said the inquisitive Dick, "but how do you get your power for starting?"
"If there is not enough juice in the storage batteries for the purpose we resort to compressed air," was the reply from Tom, for Jack, with keen eyes on the unrolling ribbon of road, was too busy to have his attention distracted.
"And that?" Dick paused interrogatively.
"Is pumped into a pressure tank as we go along. See that gauge?" he pointed to one on the dashboard of the car in front of the driver's seat.
Dick nodded.
"Well, that's a pressure gauge. You see, we have sixty pounds of air in the tank now. That can generate enough electricity to start the car going. After that the process is automatic."
"Yes, you explained that. Suppose the tank should, through an accident, be empty, and you wanted to start?"
"We've provided for that"
"I expected so. Wabbling wheels of Wisconsin, you fellows are certainly wonders."
"Nothing very wonderful about it," disclaimed Tom. "Well, if we find the tank is empty we have a powerful, double-acting hand pump by which, without much effort, we can get up any pressure we need."
"And then you turn a valve?"
"Exactly, and the air-motor turns over the dynamo which starts generating electricity right away."
"Then, except for the first cost of the car, the expense of operating it is comparatively nothing?" asked Dick.
"Yes, you might say we get our power out of the air, and that's free--so far."
"And there's no limit, then, to what you can do or where you can go with the Electric Monarch?"
"None; that is, so long as the machinery holds out. We are independent of fuel and the lubricating system is so devised that the oiling is automatic and requires attending to only once a month. We could easily carry a year's supply of lubricant."
"Tall timbers of Taunton!" burst out Dick enthusiastically. "You've solved the problem of the poor man's car. All the owner of an Electric Monarch has to do is to pump a little pump-handle or press a little button and he's off without it costing him a cent. My story will sure make a big sensation!"
"Well, you want to tone down that part about its not costing a cent," chimed in Jack as they coasted down a hill. "The expense of the motor and the self-lubricating bearings and so on is pretty steep. But we hope in time to be able to cheapen the whole car."
They were shooting swiftly down the hill as he spoke. The next moment he looked ahead again as they shot round a curve. As they did so his hand sought a button and an ear-splitting screech arose from a powerful siren.
In the center of the road, quite oblivious to the oncoming automobile, was an odd figure, that of a small man in a rusty, baggy suit of black.
He had a hammer in his hand and was hitting some object in the roadway over which he was bending with a concentrated interest that made him quite unconscious of the onrushing car.
"Hi! Get out of the way!" yelled the boys.
But the man did not look up. Instead, he kept tapping away with his hammer at whatever it was that absorbed his attention so intently.
CHAPTER II.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH A "CHARACTER."
Jack jammed down the emergency brakes, which were pneumatic and operated from the pressure tank, with a suddenness that sent Dick Donovan almost catapulting out of the tonneau.
"Jumping jiggers of Joppa!" he shouted, for he had not yet seen the obstacle in the road, "what's happened? Are we bust up?"
"No, but if I hadn't stopped when I did we'd have bust someone else up," declared Jack. "Look there!"
"Can you beat it?" exclaimed Tom.
As the brakes brought the car to a stop within a foot of his stout, rotund figure, the little man in the center of the road looked up with a sort of mild surprise through a pair of astonishingly thick-lensed eyeglasses secured to his ears by a thick, black ribbon. He wore a broad-brimmed black hat and wrinkled, baggy clothes of bar-cloth, and a huge pair of square-toed boots that looked as if their tips had been chopped off with an ax.
Over his shoulder was slung a canvas bag which appeared to be heavy and bulged as if several irregularly shaped, solid substances were inside of it. The spot where this odd encounter took place was some distance from any town, but a bicycle leaning against a tree at the roadside showed how the little man had got there.
"Say, would you mind letting us get by?" asked Jack.
The little man raised a hand protestingly.
"I'll be delighted to in just a moment," he said, "but just now it's impossible. You see, I've just