sland, and it's to be an endurance contest for twenty-four hours, or a
race for distance, they haven't yet decided. But I'm going to have a
try for it, dad, and, besides winning the prize, I think I'll take Andy
Foger down a peg.

"What's Andy been doing now?"

"Oh, nothing more than usual. He's always mean, and looking for a
chance to make trouble for me, but I didn't refer to anything special
He has a new auto, you know, and he boasts that it's the fastest one in
this country. I'll show him that it isn't, for I'm going to win this
prize with the speediest car on the road."

"But, Tom, you haven't any automobile, you know," and Mr. Swift looked
anxiously at his son, who was smiling confidently. "You can't be going
to make your motor-cycle into an auto; are you?"

"No, dad."

"Then how are you going to take part in the prize contest? Besides,
electric cars, as far as I know, aren't specially speedy."

"I know it, and one reason why this club has arranged the contest is to
improve the quality of electric automobiles. I'm going to build an
electric runabout, dad."

"An electric runabout? But it will have to be operated with a storage
battery, Tom, and you haven't--"

"I guess you're going to say I haven't any storage battery, dad,"
interrupted Mr. Swift's son. "Well, I haven't yet, but I'm going to
have one. I've been working on--"

"Oh, ho!" exclaimed the aged inventor with a laugh. "So that's what
you've been tinkering over these last few weeks, eh, Tom? I suspected
it was some new invention, but I didn't suppose it was that. Well, how
are you coming on with it?"

"Pretty good, I think. I've got a new idea for a battery, and I made an
experimental one. I gave it some pretty severe tests, and it worked
fine."

"But you haven't tried it out in a car yet, over rough roads, and under
severe conditions have you?"

"No, I haven't had a chance. In fact, when I invented the battery I had
no idea of using it on a car I thought it might answer for commercial
purposes, or for storing a current generated by windmills. But when I
read that account in the papers of the Touring Club, offering a prize
for the best electric car, it occurred to me that I might put my
battery into an auto, and win."

"Hum," remarked Mr. Swift musingly. "I don't take much stock in
electric autos, Tom. Gasolene seems to be the best, or perhaps steam,
generated by gasolene. I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. All the
electric runabouts I