Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

21 Havden car wins I've got to go tlirOugli ^viiit it." Bob clonclicd his liands involuntarily, tlicn all at once he turned from tier and confronted her fatlier. "Mr. Madison," lie said quickly, "I had some experience of racing before I joined the brigade. The excitement of it appealed to me until I got the idea for my fire-extinguisher, and I've driven in both track races and road races. If you'll take a chance on me, I'll pilot the Brown Special!" IMadison loo1<ed at hini doubtfully for a moment, and was still deliberating when Dan ^litcliell arrived back on the scene and discovered what was afoot. "Let Bob drive, daddy." .lune urged. "I believe in him. and after all—he's our only hope of winning to-day's race." Madison compres.scd his lips. Tim Sliayne had told him that the speed of the Brown Special would be limited only by the nerve of the man at tlie wheel. Well, if Bob Darrow showed as much nerve in a racing car as he did in an outbreak of fire, ho would be worth a chance. "Go ahead. Bob," he said. Loitering in the background. Dan Mitchell touched the arm of a man in overalls who was examining the engine of the Brown Special. The man wa"^ Spud Rossiter. and he lifted his head and slid a sidelong glance of inquirv at ^Mitchell. "Refuse to ride with him." iMitclieil said out of the corner of his month. Rossiter nodded, and then, dropping the hood of the car with a clang as Bob reached for a suit of white overalls that Tim Shayne was to have worn, he called out to Madison in a harsh and rasping voice. "Just a minute!" he grated. "I ain't ridin' in this car with any amatoor at the wheel. Count nic out." IMadison excliangcd a glance with Bob. ^ "I guess we're helpless. Darrow." he s.aid gloomily: but the fireman was not of the same mind. Running towards the grand-stand, he located Pat Heeley and broiight him hack to where the Madi- sons stood. "Pat," he explained to the Irishman, "I'm driving the Brown Special, and I need a mechanic. Theie isn't much about an engine that you don't know. D'you want the job?" "Do I want it?" Pat cried. "I've got it," And with the words he began to clamber into the racing-car. Spud Rossiter tried to stop him. but Pat tweaked him violently by the nose and then reached for a suit of overalls. Meanwhile Bob was talking lo the IVIadi- sons, and assuring them that he would do his level best to win. "I know you will. Darrow." said ISIadison, as Bob was peeling oft his jacket. "But I may as weH tell you (hat I've got a fortune at stake, and it's on the nose of that car." "There's more than a fortune at stake. Bob," put in Jiftie, and on a sudden impulse she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Before he could recover from his sur prise she had turned and was running in the direction of the grand-stand. Bob gazed after fier for a few moments, and theti jubilantly I>egan to don overalls, Pat Heeley was similarly occupied when Dan I\liichell drew near Spud Ro.ssiter and again addressed him in an undertone. "(Jet l)U.«y," he snapped, indicating the car. "Fix it." Rossiter gave him a look of under- standing, and. spanner in hand, stoop<'d Septemlier 20tli, lOSl. BOY'S CINEMA beside the offside front wheel. He had slackened off one or two vital nuts whcij Pat chanced to turn his head, "Hey, j'ouse," the Irishman- rapped out, " what do ye think ye're doin' ? I'm the mechanic on this car." " I was only tightenin' up some screws." growled Spud Rossiter. Rossiter slunk away. In passing Mitchell, he inclined his head meaningly. Mitchell strolled off to join June, but .Tames- Madison lingered to address a few final words to Bob as the latter climbed into the Brown Special racing- car. ^ "Good luck, Darrow," he said. "We have seats booked in the stand, aii'l we'll be watching you as you leave— and waiting for you to come in—first.'' The Race. THE starter was flagging the com- petitors individually and sending them on their way. Looking down from the grand-stand, the crowd on the terraces saw a big red i-acer slide for- ward to the line, a figure "5" painted on each side of its bonnet. "That's Pollard," said Dan Mitchell, sitting next to Jiuie and her father. "No. 3—Havden Special. He's got the race in the bag, June—and my ring op your finger—right now." "I think you're wrong." declared June, with perhaps more confidence than she felt, and then followed the Haydcii machine with her eyes as it stormed for ward over the straight. The next to move up into position was Number 7, the Brown Special, with Bob and I'at in the cockpit, and, as he paused by the starter and let the engino tick over with deep-toned throb, the young fireman at the wheel lifted his goggles and waved to June. The signal was given, and Number 7 rolled forward. With engine-note rising to a full, thunderous roar as Bob nursed the gear-lever from "low" to "top," the Brown Special hurtled on her way. Once round the track and then out on to the open road. This was the pro- gramme, and with bated breath au<l an unuttered prayer on her lips, June Madi son watched car Number 7 till it was out of sight. With the highway stretching away in front of fiim. and a string of rival cars ahead, Bob Darrow coaxed the accelerator and watched the speed indi- cator climb from sixty to seventy, seventy to eighty, eighty to ninety—up to the hundred mark and |)ast it. Masses of spectators were gathered at various vantage-points on the route. The long procession of flashing racers .screained past a knot of tlieni on the rim of a hill and tore down a long declivity. A car numbered fourteen was leading, and Niunber Three was ruiming fifth, but before another mile was covered Gus Pollard had forged into third place. Ten miles from the starting-point the racers hit an ugly bend, but no mishap occurred there. Running sixth as lie approachi'd it. Bob Darrow negotiated it in !i ncck-or-nolhitig skid, slashed past a rival car almost broadsidc-on, and then straightened up to give the Brown Special the "gas." Over a lliree-mile stretch he kept.her at the hundrcd-and- thirty mark and fought his way into fourth position. Wind and engine-roar shrilled in his ears de-ifeningly. He felt as if he were battling his way through a terrific gale, a hurricane of hot air that burned his face with the concentrated force of its impact. Ahead lav the wor.st curve in (he Every Tuesday route. Raking into the bend to chal lenge a car immediately in front of him. Bob was enveloped in a mad smother of dust thai; ob.scured the scene. Through that dust the torpedo-body of a gleam- ing racer was seen suddenly to leave the road and plunge to its ruin down a forty-feet embankment, liurliiig two mangled, human bodies from its cockpit. Back at the speedway, loud .speakers were can-ying intelligence of the race to the crowds which packed the stands. An announcer imparted news of tti? tragedy. " Wreck at Hell's Corner." hi= terse vo'co came. "Will give particulars as soon as received." Moments of breathless silence—and. for the jMadisons. tlie agony of suspense. Dan Mitchell's anxiety was plain as well, though it sprang from very different sentiments. " The wreck at Hell's Corner was Car Number " .Tune's hand travelled to her heart. "Car Number Ten " Meanwhile the race was being fought out at lightning pace. Gus Pollard's Hayden stormed into second place and then challenged Number Fourteen ior the lead. At Redwood Cliff, where the road wound along the coast, th'i Hayden's streani-lined bonnet bored 'n front. But the Brown Special was not Jo&ing ground, and Bob forced her past another rival. He was on a bend at the time, and two wheels were thumping on the rim of the precipice as he slammed the gear-lever from "top" to "third" and made thp curve. He was hardly past when the car hd had beaten out of third place took a wild swerve to the left and dived over the cliff into the sea, with engine shriek- ing at top pitch. "Car Number Three now leads the field.'.' came the voice of the announcer at the speedway. "But Number Seven is coming up like a rocket—only fifty yards behind Number Fourteen now." " Daddy, daddy," .Tune breathed, "Bob's going to do it! He's -" The announcer's laconic tones inter- rupted her. "Third wreck of the race. Car Num- ber Six jumped road and piled up in hay-rick. Driver and mechanic for- tunately uninjured " Seven, Fourteen, and Three were now in a bunch. But wild driving by tho man at the wheel of Number Fourteen held Bob Darrow in cheek, and Pollard in his Hayden began to increase his lead steadily, putting a mile between himself and his nearest challenger. Bob awaited his chance, and, when it came, flipped through to take second position in masterly style. Next moment the Brown Special was begin- ning to lop yard after yard from the Haydcii racer's advantage. The news came through that Bob Darrow was gaining, and. ,up in the grand-stand. Dan Mitchell scowled darkly. He had imagined that by now Spud Rossiter's last-minute handiwork would liave taken effect. Had the fool bungled in his attempt to cripple the car ? Rossiter had not bungled the job, but Pat Heeley had interrupted him ero ho had slackened off those nuts to tho extent that he had intended, and oidy now was the strain beginning to tell on them. It was not Rossiter's handiwork that threatened to spoil Bob Darrow'* chances of victory, however. For, spee<l- ing along the home cour.se at something: