Life — January 17, 1907 — page 44: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

IN TIRES MUST COVER ALL GROUNDS SPEED, RESILIENCY, DURABILITY, SHOCK- RESISTING STRENGTH, ARE COMBINED IN THEIR HIGHEST DEGREE IN THE PENNSYLVANIA CLINCHER RACING TYPE ITS FLAT, CORRUGATED TREAD SUCCESSFULLY RESISTS SKIDDING AND WEARS UNIFORMLY WITHOUT RAGGING AT THE SIDES. PENNSYLVANIA RUBBER COMPANY JEANNETTE, PA. General Sales Agent, ROGER B. MeMULLEN, Chicago, It 02.N. Prior St. 20 Park Square PHILADELPHIA: 615 N. Broad St. BUFFALO: 717 Main St. LONDON: 26 City Road ELECTRICS Model 67, Victoria Phaeton “/ This carriage, our latest creation, is unquestionably the most dis- tinct and distinguished of electric automobiles, It is the acme of style and luxuriousness, Throughout marked ingenuity and artistic taste has been shown by the designer—nothing is skimped—broad, liberal, graceful lines, providing an exceptionally comfortable, con- venient and spacious vehicle. The Price is $1,600 We make Runabouts, Stanhopes, Surreys, Open and Closed Chel- cians’ Road, Station and Delivery Wagons. Trucks to Pope Motor Car Co.,Waverley Dept., Indianapolis, Ind. — = pi ’s getting locked up. You look young, but I’m willing to give you a In the garage, Landerson called his caretaker. “Ts that eight-cylinder machine all ready?” “Ves, sir.” “Bring her out.” Josephine examined critically the gray racing machine. She took the cover off the engine, looked at the switchboard, tested the plugs, went over | the cables, tested the oiler. Then she cranked her up, and they started | off. “The right kind of a woman,” an authority, “ought to drive a motor-car better than a man. She may not have the brute force, but she has the temperament. All a woman of this sorts needs is_ plenty of power to direct. She possesses the finesse, the delicacy of control and the dare- devil trait, coupled with a certain unerring intuition which no man can hope to equal.” They were gone three hours. Up hill and down dale, along streets of am and through muddy byways. Once they burst a tire. Josephine sprung out and made the substitution in 124 minutes—the quickest time Landerson had ever seen. When at last they got back to the garage, Landerson turned quietly to his new prize. “How much do you want?” he asked. 1'll leave it entirely with you.” “Well, I'll pay you $1,500 a year. And you can begin at once. The big race comes off in two months. If you do as well as you have done to-day I shall let you drive for me. I’m having a new car made— 120 horse-power, and I want you to live with it. Get everything down fine, and remember that to ride like hell is the only way we can win * * * The Farmers of Palmer County had risen in a body to protest against the great automobile race that the experts had decided was to be held over the magnificent roads of that section. But all in vain. In spite of their protests, the law was set aside and the rights of the taxpayers ignored. The day of the race opened calm and utiful, and early in the morning the crowds began to collect on the course, Vehicles of every description were there, and e' ze and make of automobile ever heard of, from the dinky little one-cylinder runabout to the magnificent $20,000 French machines, with their resplendent trim- mings and their wonderfully concentrated power. The racers—long, low, gray, rak ffairs—presented a strong contrast to these beautiful mechani- cal creations. But there was one thing quite certain—they looked business, and they meant business. In all there were nearly twenty of them—driven by swarthy Italians, keen-eyed Frenchmen, and cadaverous Yankees. But the main interest, after all, lay between Bertie Hayward and Billy Landerson. For in the automobile world these two had always been deadly rivals, and, with unlimited resources between them, it would seem as if the victory of one would at last determine the supremacy of a cer- tain type. Bertie’s gray leviathan, stripped of every superfluous ounce, stood waiting for the si Bertie had determined to drive himself. As he there, Landerson’s big machine came whizzing by, with Josephine at the wheel. At the same instant that Bertie took in its sole occupant Landerson hailed him from the crowd. “Hello, Bertie, going to try it yourself?” “Yes. Who is that running your machine?” “A dark horse.” “Oh, Lought to know. Didn't I send him to you? I’ve got you beat all right.” “Well, we'll see.” ‘The signal was given. One by one, the dark shadows started off. Like streaks of gray they shot off down the course—the very quintessence of speed. The course itself was sixty miles around, with four quarter turns. Bertie had started off ahead. Josephine, her foot on the accelerator, her hands clasped round the steering wheel, came after him. As they came to the first turn, Bertie slewed to the right. Josephine, slacking up, suddenly opened up everything and shot in ahead. In five minutes she had increased the lead nearly thirty rods. Then came a contest of pa hu, gre ligt car whi his. atl that wor twen’ his li usele crimi perhi if you the c not me u hearc hadn you F serve of thi never Sh had t “Ny looki All was 1 Fin club. In comicbooks.com