Though Tom's father had told him there was no necessity for anygreat speed, the young inventor could not resist the opportunity forpushing his machine to the limit. The road was a level one and ingood condition, so the motor-cycle fairly flew along. The day waspleasant, a warm sun shining overhead, and it was evident that earlysummer was crowding spring rather closely.
"This is glorious!" exclaimed Tom aloud as he spun along. "I'm glad Ipersuaded dad to let me take this trip. It was a great idea. Wish NedNewton was along, though. He'd be company for me, but, as Ned wouldsay, there are two good reasons why he can't come. One is he has towork in the bank, and the other is that he has no motor-cycle."
Tom swept past house after house along the road, heading in theopposite direction from that in which lay the town of Shopton andthe city of Mansburg. For several miles Tom's route would liethrough a country district. The first large town he would reachwould be Centreford. He planned to get lunch there, and he hadbrought a few sandwiches with him to eat along the road in case hebecame hungry before he reached the place.
"I hope the package containing the model doesn't jar off," mused thelad as he reached behind to make sure that the precious bundle wassafe. "Dad would be in a bad way if that should disappear. And thepapers, too." He put his hand to his inner pocket to feel that theywere secure. Coming to a little down-grade, Tom shut off some of thepower, the new levers he had arranged to control the gasolene andspark working well.
"I think I'll take the old wood road and pass through Pompville,"Tom decided, after covering another mile or two. He was approachinga division in the highway. "It's a bit sandy," he went on, "and thegoing will be heavy, but it will be a good chance to test mymachine. Besides, I'll save five miles, and, while I don't have tohurry, I may need time on the other end. I'd rather arrive in Albanya little before dusk than after dark. I can deliver the model andpapers and have a good night's sleep before starting back. So theold wood road it will be."
The wood road, as Tom called it, was a seldom used highway, which,originally, was laid out for just what the name indicated, to bringwood from the forest. With the disappearance of most of the treesthe road became more used for ordinary traffic between the towns ofPompville and Edgefield. But when the State built a new highwayconnecting these two places the old road fell into disuse, though itwas several miles shorter than the new turnpike.
He turned from the main thoroughfare, and was soon spinning alongthe sandy stretch, which was shaded with trees that in some placesmet overhead, forming a leafy arch. It was cool and pleasant, andTom liked it.
"It isn't as bad as I thought," he remarked. "The sand is prettythick, but this machine of mine appears to be able to crawl throughit."
Indeed, the motor-cycle was doing remarkably well, but Tom foundthat he had to turn on full power, for the big rubber wheels wentdeep into the soft soil. Along Tom rode, picking out the firmestplaces in the road. He was so intent on this that he did not paymuch attention to what was immediately ahead of him, knowing that hewas not very likely to meet other vehicles or pedestrians. He wasconsiderably startled therefore when, as he went around a turn inthe highway where the bushes grew thick, right down to the edge ofthe road, to see a figure emerge from the underbrush and startacross the path. So quickly did the man appear that Tom was almostupon him in an instant, and even though the young inventor shut offthe power and applied the brake, the front wheel hit the man andknocked him down.
"What's the matter with you? What are you trying to do--kill me? Whydon't you ring a bell or blow a horn when you're coming?" The man hadsprung up from the soft sand where the wheel from the motor-cycle hadsent him and faced Tom angrily. Then the rider, who had quicklydismounted, saw that his victim was a ragged tramp.
"I'm sorry," began Tom. "You came out of the bushes so quickly thatI didn't have a chance to warn you. Did I hurt you much?"
"Well, youse might have. 'Tain't your fault dat youse didn't," andthe tramp began to brush the dirt from his ragged coat. Tom wasinstantly struck by a curious fact. The tramp in his second remarksused language more in keeping with his character, whereas, in hisfirst surprise and anger, he had talked much as any other personwould. "Youse fellers ain't got no right t' ride dem machines likelightnin' along de roads," the ragged chap went on, and he stillclung to the use of words and expressions current among hisfraternity. Tom wondered at it, and then, ascribing the use of thebetter language to the fright caused by being hit by the machine,the lad thought no more about it at the time. There was occasion,however, when he attached more meaning to it.
"I'm very sorry," went on Tom. "I'm sure I didn't mean to. You see,I was going quite slowly, and--"
"You call dat slow, when youse hit me an' knocked me down?" demandedthe tramp. "I'd oughter have youse arrested, dat's what, an' I wouldif dere was a cop handy."
"I wasn't going at all fast," said Tom, a little nettled that hisconciliatory words should be so rudely received. "If I had beengoing full speed I'd have knocked you fifty feet."
"It's a good thing. Cracky, den I'm glad dat youse wasn't goin' likedat," and the tramp seemed somewhat confused. This time Tom lookedat him more closely, for the change in his language had been veryplain. The fellow seemed uneasy, and turned his face away. As he didso Tom cau............