XIII. MILLINGTON'S MOTOR MYSTERY
MILLINGTON and I hunted up the automobile the next day, and it was inworse condition than I had imagined. The only way the car could be gotback to his garage was on a truck, but we got it there, and unloadedit, and Millington hunted up all his tools and got them ready to use thenext day. It was late by that time, and we locked the garage and went tobed.
All night I worried over having taken two dollars and forty-fivecents from Millington for that collection of old metal that had been amotor-car, and as early as possible the next morning I took the moneyand went over to Millington's. I found him just going out to the garage,and he positively refused to take back the money. He said the car wasin just the condition he wanted it, and that if I hadn't knocked thewitchery out of it no one could. He said he hoped--and just then heopened the garage door.
There stood the automobile, on the very spot where we had left it, butthere was not a scratch on it. Except that it was an ancient model, itmight have been a brand new car. Even the brasswork had been polished,and at the first glance the tires seemed new, but we found they had onlybeen carefully repaired and painted drab.
Millington stood looking at the automobile a few minutes and thenlaughed. He turned to me with a strangely contorted face and said:"Uncle Tom, you are invited to take a ride with Cleopatra in my air-shipto-night at midnight."
Millington said this in a very calm voice, but he immediately followedit by asking me to have a piece of strawberry pie, and instead of pie heoffered me the can of gear grease. I managed to coax him into thehouse, and when the doctor arrived he advised absolute rest. He saidMillington's brain was not yet permanently affected, but that anothersuch shock would be too much for him. He said that for the present wemust humour him, and try to make him believe that the automobile wasdamaged beyond recovery. It seemed to have a soothing effect, and to aidhis recovery I got into the car, ran it into the street, aimed it at astone wall opposite Millington's window, threw on the high speed, andjumped to one side. One minute later the machine was afire, and halfan hour later little was left of it but the metal parts, and they werebadly warped.
Mr. Prawley came out when he saw the fire, and a look of the mostfiendish joy glittered in his eyes. Never have I seen a man showsuch pleasure over the destruction of an automobile. His hatred ofautomobiles seemed to be endless and bottomless.
When I told Millington that his automobile was now in about as badcondition as man could put it into, he sat up in bed, and the light ofsanity came into his eyes. He walked to the window and looked out at thecar, and became his old cheerful self again. He said that there was nodoubt now that the devils in the car had been exorcised, and that witha few weeks work he could get it back into such shape that the enginewould be working properly, and we would then, he said take that littlerun up to Port Lafayette. He then took a little nourishment, and bynight he was quite himself again. When he had had his dinner I went homeand had mine, and went to bed at once, for I knew Millington would be atwork soon after sun-up.
I had hardly got into bed, however, when I began to fear thatMillington's eagerness would get the best of him, and at ten o'clock Iwent over to his house. I found him in bed and awake and cheerful, buthe said he did not mean to get up. He said it was against his policy toget up the day before in order to be up the next day, so I sat by hisbed and read chapters from a dear little work of fiction entitled "EasyRemedies for Ignition Troubles," until the clock struck twelve, and thenMillington hopped out of bed and threw on his clothes.
The moment we stepped from the back door the same thing struck us bothwith surprise. There was a light in the garage!
My first thought was that some rascal was in the garage trying toruin Millington's automobile, but a second thought assured me this wasimpossible. Ruin could be carried no farther than I had carried it.Bidding Millington be silent, I crept cautiously toward the garage, withMillington at my heels, and without a sound we peered in at the window.The sight was one that would have shaken the strongest man.
Bending over the motor, with his face made unearthly by the artificiallight that fell upon it obliquely, casting deep shadows, was thatvillain, Mr. Prawley! I have never seen anything so devilish as thatwretch as he worked with inhuman agility and haste. His long, claw-likefingers danced from one part of the machine to another fiendishly, and ahideous grin distorted his features. He was humming some weird tune, andI noted that he was ambidextrous, for he was varnishing the hood withone hand while with the other he was putting in a new spark plug. Atremor of horror passed over Millington and over me at the same moment.A few whispered words, a few stealthy steps, and we burst in and seizedMr. Prawley by the arms. In a moment we had him on the floor of thegarage, bound hand and foot.
Millington was for wreaking immediate vengeance on him, but I stoodfirmly for a more lawful course, and the next day we handed him over tothe authorities, and his whole miserable story came out. His name wasnot Mr. Prawley at all. Neither was it Alonzo Duggs, which was the namehe he had given us when Isobel and I hired him. His name was WilliamAlexander Vandergribbin. He came of good family, but mania for speedingautomobiles had brought him to ruin, and the third time he was arrestedfor over-speeding a sentence of thirty years in the penitentiary hadbeen pronounced by the judge. The judge, however, had suspended thesentence provided that William Alexander Vandergribbin never againtouched an automobile.
For several years Vandergribbin fought down his appetite. Then hefell. He changed his name to Flossy Zozo, and secured a job as thedeath-defying loop-the-gappist with the big show. For a time thespeeding down the runway in the fake automobile, with the somersault atthe bottom of the run, appeased his cravings, but the rules of theshow prohibited him from tinkering with the fake automobile, which wasstrictly in charge of the property man, and Vandergribbin left the show,changed his name to Alonzo Duggs, and seeking our quiet town, chose workin the house nearest the man owning the oldest automobile. For weeks hehad watched his opportunity--you know the rest. He is now in Sing Sing.
I am sorry to end this story so abruptly, but Millington has justcome over to ask if I would not like to take a little run out to PortLafayette. I have always wanted to go to Port Lafayette, which is abouteleven miles from here; so, if you will excuse me, I will go and buttonIsobel's matinee gown, and we will be off.
END
The Adventures of a Suburbanite Page 13
