But the red and the green car drivers saw their advantage, and were determined to hold it.Tom could not catch them without going his limit, and he did not want to do this just yet.However, he had his opportunity when about two hundred miles had been covered.Both the red and thegreen cars had tire troubles, but the red one was delayed scarcely two minutes as there was a corps of mechanics on hand to take off the defective wheel and put on another.Still Tom regained his lost ground, and once more the race between those three cars was even.
In the rear of Tom's car Mr.Sharp was mending the blown-out tire, though there was still one spare wheel on reserve.Tom, in front, peered eagerly at the track.Nearly side by side raced the red and the green cars, the latter somewhat to the rear.
It was at the three hundred and fiftieth mile that Tom had another blow-out.This time it took a little longer to change the wheel, and the red and green cars gained a full lap on him.The track was now so dusty that it was difficult to see the contesting cars.Many had dropped out, and more were on the verge of giving up.
With the odds against him, Tom started in to regain the lost ground.Narrowly he watched his electric power.Slowly he saw it dropping.Would he have enough left to finish out the race? He feared not.The hours were passing.Still there was a hundred miles yet to go twenty circuits of the track.Some of the spectators were getting weary and leaving.The band played spasmodically.
Suddenly Tom saw the red car shoot to one side of the track, toward a charging station; The green car followed.
"That's our cue!" cried the young inventor "We need a little more 'juice' and now is the time to get it."The lad ran to the shed where his charging wires were, and they were connected in a trice.He allowed twenty-five minutes for the charging, as he knew with his improved battery he could get enough current in that time to finish the contest.Before the red and green car drivers had finished installing new batteries, for they could not recharge as quickly as could our hero, Tom was on the track again.But, in a little while, his two rivals were after him.
It was now a spectacular race.Around and around swept the three big cars.All the others were practically out of it.The crowd became lively airs.Mile after mile was reeled off.The day was passing.Tired and covered with dust from the track, Tom still sat at the steering wheel.
"Two laps more!" cried Mr.Sharp, as the starter's pistol gave this warning."Can you get away from 'em, Tom?"The red and the green cars were following closely.The young inventor looked back and nodded.He turned on more power, almost to the limit-- that he was saving for the final spurt.But after him still came the two big cars.Suddenly the red car shot ahead, just as the last lap was beginning.The green tried to follow, but there was a flash of fire, a loud report, and Tom knew a fuse had blown out.There was no time for his rival to put in a new one.The race was now between Tom and the red car.Could the lad catch and pass it?
They were now only a mile from the finish.The red car was three lengths ahead.With a quick motion Tom turned on the last bit of power.There seemed to come a roar from his Motor and his car shot ahead.It was on even terms with the red car when what Tom had been fearing for the last five minutes happened.his fuse blew out.
"Too bad! It's all up with us!" cried Mr.Sharp.
"No!" cried Tom in a ringing voice."I've got an emergency fuse ready!" He snapped a switch in place, putting into commission another fuse.The motor that had lost speed began to pick it up again.Tom had pulled back the controller handle, but he now shoved it forward again, notch by notch, until it was at the limit.He had fallen back from the red car, and the occupants of that, with a yell of triumph, prepared to cross the line a winner.
But, like a race horse that nerves himself for the last desperate spurt, Tom's machine fairly leaped ahead.With his hands gripping the rim of the steering wheel, until it seemed that the bones of his fingers would protrude, Tom sent his car straight for the finishing tape.There was a yell from the spectators.Men were standing up, waving their hats and shouting.Women were fairly screaming.Mr.Damon was blessing everything within sight.Mr.Sharp, in his excitement, was pushing on the back of the front seats as if to shove the car ahead.
Then, as the pistol announced the close of the race, Tom's car, with what seemed a mighty leap, like a hunter clearing a ditch, forged ahead, and crossed the line a length in advance of the red car.Tom Swift hadWon.
Amid the cheers of the crowd the lad slowed up, and, at the direction of the judges, wheeled back to the stand, to receive the prize.A certified check for three thousand dollars was handed him, and he received the congratulations of the racing officials.The driver of the red car also generously praised him.
"You won fair and square," he said, shaking hands with Tom.
The young inventor and his friends drove their car to their shed.As Tom was descending, weary and begrimed with dust he heard a voice asking:
