CHAPTER III
A SECOND CALAMITY
While hunting up the garage and negotiating for gasoline Steve thrustresolutely from his mind his encounter with O'Malley and the gallingsense of inferiority it carried with it; but once on the highroad againthe smart returned and the sting lingering behind the man's scorn wasnot to be allayed. It required every excuse his wounded dignity couldmuster to bolster up his pride and make out for himself the plausiblecase that had previously comforted him and lulled his conscience torest. It was now more impossible than ever for him to make anyconfession, he decided; for having denied in his father's presenceO'Malley's acquaintance it would be ridiculous to acknowledge that hehad known the truck driver all along. Of course he could not do that.Whatever he might have said or done at the time, it was entirely toolate to go back on his conduct now. One event had followed on the heelsof another until to slip out a single stone of the structure he hadbuilt up would topple over the whole house.
If he had spoken in the beginning that would have been quite simple. Allhe could do now was to let bygones be bygones and in the pleasure ofto-day forget the mistakes of yesterday. Consoled by this reflection hemanaged to recapture such a degree of his self-esteem that by the timehe rejoined the family he was once more holding his head in the air andsmiling with his wonted lightness of heart.
"We shall get you to Northampton now, daughter, without more delay, Ihope," Mrs. Tolman affirmed when the car was again skimming along. "Wemay be a bit behind schedule; nevertheless a late arrival by motor willbe pleasanter than to have made the trip by train."
"I should say so!" was the fervent ejaculation.
"Come, come!" interrupted Mr. Tolman. "I shall not sit back and allowyou two people to cry down the railroads. They are not perfect, I willadmit, and unquestionably trains do not always go at the hours we wishthey did; a touring car is, perhaps, a more comfortable and luxuriousmethod of travel, especially in summer. But just as it is an improvementover the train, so the train was a mighty advance over the stagecoach ofolden days."
"Oh, I don't know, Dad," Stephen mused. "I am not so sure that I shouldnot have liked stagecoaches better. Think what jolly sport it must havebeen to drive all over the country!"
"In fine weather, yes--that is, if the roads had been as excellent asthey are now; but you must remember that in the old coaching daysroad-building had not reached its present perfection. Traveling bystage over a rough highway in a conveyance that had few springs was notso comfortable an undertaking as it is sometimes pictured. Furthermoreyou must not forget that it was also perilous, for not only was theredanger from accident on these poorly constructed, unlightedthoroughfares but there was in addition the menace from highwaymen inthe less populated districts. It took a great while to make a journey ofany length, too, and to sleep in a coach where one was cramped, jolted,and either none too warm or miserably hot was not an unalloyed delight,as I am sure you will agree."
"I had not thought of any of those things," owned Stephen. "It justseemed on the face of it as if it must have been fun to ride on top ofthe coach and see the sights as one does from the Fifth Avenue or Londonbuses."
"Oh," laughed his father, "a few hours' adventure like that is quite adifferent affair from making a stagecoach journey. I grant that to rideon a clear morning through the streets of a great city, or bowl alongthe velvet roads of a picturesque countryside as one frequently does inEngland is very delightful. To read Dickens' descriptions of journeys upto London is to long to don a greatcoat, wind a muffler about one'sneck, and amid the cracking of whips and tooting of horns dash offbehind the horses for the fairy city his pen portrays. Who would nothave liked, for example, to set out with Mr. Pickwick for the Christmasholidays at Dingley Dell? Why, you cannot even read about it withoutseeing in your mind's eye the envious throng that crowded the inn yardand watched while the stableboys loosed the heads of the leaders and thesteeds galloped away! And those marvelous country taverns he depicts,with their roaring fires, their steaming roasts, their big platters offowl deluged in gravy, and their hot puddings! Was there ever writermore tantalizing?"
"You will have us all hungry in two minutes, Dad, if you keep on,"exclaimed Stephen.
"And Dickens has us hungry, too," declared Mr. Tolman. "Nevertheless wemust not forget that he paints but one side of the picture. He fails toemphasize what such a trip meant when the weather was cold and stormy,and those outside the coach as well as those inside it were oftendrenched with rain or snow, and well-nigh frozen to death. Moreover,while it is true that many of the inns along the turnpike were clean andfurnished excellent fare, there were others that could boast nothingbetter than chilly rooms, damp beds, and only a very limitedhospitality."
"I believe you are a realist, Henry," said his wife playfully.
Her husband laughed.
"Nor must we lose sight of the time consumed by making a trip by coach,"he went on. "Business in those days was not such a rushing matter as itis now, of course; yet even when issues of importance were at stake, orcrises of life and death were to be met, there was no hurrying thingsbeyond a certain point. Physical impossibility prohibited it. Horsesdriven at their liveliest pace could cover only a comparatively smallnumber of miles an hour; and at the points where the relays werechanged, or the horses fed and rested; the mails deposited or takenaboard; and passengers left or picked up, there were unavoidable delays.In fact, the strongest argument against the stagecoach, and the one thatinfluenced public opinion the most, was this so-called fast-mailservice; for in order to make connections with other mail coaches alongthe route and not forfeit the money paid for doing so, horses were oftendriven at such a merciless rate of speed that the poor creatures becametotal wrecks within a very short time. Many a horse fell in its tracksin the inn yards, having been lashed along to make the necessary tenmiles an hour and reach a specified town on schedule. Other horses weremaimed for life. It is tragic to consider that in England before theadvent of the railroad about thirty thousand horses were annually eitherkilled outright or injured so badly that they were of little useafterward."
"Great Scott, Dad!" ejaculated Stephen.
"And England was no more guilty in this respect than was America, for inthe early days of our own country when people were demanding quickertransportation and swifter mail service thousands of noble beastsoffered up their last breath in making the required rate of speed."
"I suppose nobody thought about the horses," murmured the boy. "I amsure I didn't."
"If the public thought at all it was too selfish to care, I am afraid,until threatened by the possibility of the total extermination of thesecreatures," was his father's reply. "This danger, blended with a humaneimpulse which rose from the gentler-minded portion of the populace, wasthe decisive factor in urging men to seek out some other method oftravel. Then, too, the world was waking up commercially and it wasbecoming imperative to find better ways for transporting the everincreasing supplies of merchandise. The quick moving of troops from onepoint to another was also an issue. Although the canals of Englandenabled the government to carry quite a large body of men, the methodwas a slow one. In 1806, for instance, it took exactly a week to shifttroops from Liverpool to London, a distance of thirty-four miles."
"Why, they could have marched it in less time than that, couldn't they?"questioned Doris derisively.
"Yes, the journey might easily have been made on foot in two days,"nodded her father. "But in war time a long march which exhausts thesoldiers is frequently an unwise policy, for the men are in no conditionwhen they arrive to go into immediate action, as reenforcements oftenmust."
"I see," answered Doris.
"When the Liverpool and Manchester Railroad was opened in 1830 thisthirty-four miles was covered in two hours," continued Mr. Tolman. "Ofcourse the quick transportation of troops was then, as now, of veryvital importance. We have had plenty of illustrations of that in ourrecent war against Germany. Frequently the fate of a battle has hung onlarge reenforcements being speedily di
spatched to a weak point in theline. Moreover, by means of the railroads, vast quantities of food,ammunition and supplies of all sorts can constantly be sent forward tothe men in action. During the late war our American engineers laid milesand miles of track under fire, thereby keeping open the route to thefront so that there was no danger of the fighters being cut off and leftunequipped. It was a service for which they, as well as our nation, wonthe highest praise. And not only was there a constant flow of suppliesbut it was by means of these railroads that hospital trains were enabledto carry to dressing stations far behind the lines thousands of woundedmen whose lives might otherwise have been lost."
"I suppose the slightly wounded could be made more comfortable in thisway, too," Mrs. Tolman suggested.
"Yes, indeed," was the reply. "Not only were the men better cared for inthe roomier hospitals behind the lines, but as there was more spacethere the peril from contagion, always a menace when large numbers ofsick are packed closely together, was greatly lessened; for there isnothing army doctors dread so much as an epidemic of disease when thereis not enough room to isolate the patients."
"When did England adopt railroads in place of stagecoaches, Dad?" askedDoris presently.
At the question her father laughed.
"See here!" he protested good-humoredly, "what do you think I am? Justbecause I happen to be a superintendent do you think me a volume ofrailroad history, young woman? The topic, I confess, is a fascinatingone; but I am off for a vacation to-day."
"Oh, tell us, Dad, do!" urged the girl.
"Nonsense! What is the use of spoiling a fine morning like this talkingbusiness?" objected her father.
"But it is not business to us," interrupted Mrs. Tolman. "It is simple astory--a sort of fairy tale."
"It is not unlike a fairy tale, that's a fact," reflected her husbandgravely. "Imagine yourself back, then, in 1700, before steam power wasin use in England. Now you must not suppose that steam had never beenheard of, for an ancient Alexandrian record dated 120 B. C. describes asteam turbine, steam fountain, and steam boiler; nevertheless, Hero, thehistorian who tells us of them, leaves us in doubt as to whether thesewonders were actually worked out, or if they were, whether they wereanything but miniature models. Still the fact that they are mentionedgoes to prove that there were persons in the world who at a very earlydate vaguely realized the possibilities of steam as a force, whetherturned to practical uses or not. For years the subject remained analluring one which led many a scientist into experiments without number.In various parts of the world men played with the idea and wrote aboutit; but no one actually produced any practical steam contrivance until1650, when the second Marquis of Worcester constructed a steam fountainthat could force the water from the moat around his castle as high asthe top of one of the towers. The feat was looked upon as a marvel andafterward a larger fountain, similar in principle, was constructed atVauxhall and from that time on the future of steam as a motive power wasassured."
"Did the Marquis of Worcester go on with his experiments and make otherthings?" demanded Stephen.
"Apparently not," replied his father. "He did, nevertheless, furnish abasis for others to work on. Scientists were encouraged to investigatewith redoubled zeal this strange vapor which, when controlled anddirected, could carry water to the top of a castle tower. When in 1698Savery turned Worcester's crude steam fountain to draining mines andcarrying a water supply, every vestige of doubt that this mighty powercould be applied to practical uses vanished."
"Did the steam engine come soon afterward?" queried Doris, who hadbecome interested in the story.
"No, not immediately," answered Mr. Tolman, pausing to shift the gear ofthe car. "Before the steam engine, as we know it, saw the light, therehad to be more experimenting and improving of the steam fountain. It wasnot until 1705 that Thomas Newcomen and his partner, John Calley,invented and patented the first real steam engine. Of course it was notin the least like the engines we use now. Still, it was a steam devicewith moving parts which would pump water, a tremendous advance over themechanisms of the past where all the power had been secured by thealternate filling and emptying of a vacuum, or vacant receptacle,attached to the pump. Now, with Newcomen's engine a complete revolutiontook place. The engine with moving parts, the ancestor of our modernexquisitely constructed machinery, speedily crowded out the primitivesteam fountain idea. The new device was very imperfect, there can be noquestion about that; but just as the steam fountain furnished theinspiration for the engine with moving parts, so this forward stepbecame the working hypothesis for the engines that followed."
"What engines did follow?" Doris persisted, "and who did invent oursteam engine?"
"Silly! And you in college," jeered Steve disdainfully.
"I am not taking a course in steam engines there," laughed his sisterteasingly. "Anyway, girls are not expected to know who invented all themachines in the world, are they, Dad?"
Mr. Tolman waited a moment, then said soothingly:
"No, dear. Girls are not usually so much interested in scientificsubjects as boys are--although why they should not be I never couldquite understand. Nevertheless, I think it might be as well for even agirl to know to whom we are indebted for such a significant invention asthe steam engine.
"It was James Watt," Stephen asserted triumphantly.
"It certainly was," his father agreed. "And since your brother has hisinformation at his tongue's end, suppose we get him to tell us moreabout this remarkable person."
Stephen flushed.
"I'm afraid," began he lamely, "that I don't know much more. You see, Istudied about him quite a long time ago and I don't remember thedetails. I should have to look it up. I do recall the name, though--"
His father looked amused.
"I don't know which of you children is the more blameworthy," remarkedhe in a bantering tone. "Doris, who never heard of Watt; or Stephen, whohas forgotten all about him."
Both the boy and the girl chuckled good-humoredly.
"At least I knew his name, Dad--give me credit for that," piped Steve.
"That was something, certainly," Mrs. Tolman declared, joining in thelaugh.
"Well, since neither of us can furnish the story, I don't see but thatyou will have to do it, Dad," Doris said mischievously.
"It would be a terrible humiliation if I should discover that I couldnot do it, wouldn't it?" replied Mr. Tolman with a smile. "In point offact, there actually is not a great deal more that it is essential forone to know. It was by perfecting the engines of the Newcomen type andadding to them first one and then another valuable device that Wattfinally built up the forerunner of our present-day engine. Theprogression was a gradual one. Now he would better one part, then someother. He surrounded the cylinder, for example, with a jacket, orchamber, which contained steam at the same pressure as that within theboiler, thereby keeping it as hot as the steam that entered it--a veryimportant improvement over the old idea; then he worked out a plan bywhich the steam could be admitted at each end of the cylinder instead ofat one end, as was the case with former engines. The latter innovationresulted in the push and pull of the piston rod. So it went."
"How did Watt come to know so much about engines?" asked Stephen.
"Oh, Watt was an engineer by trade--or rather he was a maker ofmathematical instruments for the University of Glasgow, where he cameinto touch with a Newcomen engine. He also made surveys of rivers,harbors, and canals. So you see it was quite a consistent thing that aman with such a bent of mind should take up the pastime of experimentingwith a toy like the steam engine in his leisure hours."
"Did he go so far as to patent it, Henry?" Mrs. Tolman questioned.
"Yes, he did. Many of our scientists either had not the wit to do this,alas, or else they were too impractical to appreciate the value of theirideas. In consequence the glory and financial benefit of what they didwas often filched from them. But Watt was a Scotchman and canny enoughto realize to some extent what his invention was worth. He thereforeobta
ined a patent on it which was good for twenty-five years; and when,in 1800, this right expired he retired from business with both fame andfortune."
"It is nice to hear of one inventor who got something out of his toil,"Mrs. Tolman observed.
"Indeed it is. Think of the many men who have slaved day and night,forfeited health, friends, and money to give to the world an idea, andnever lived to receive either gratitude or financial reward, dyingunknown or entirely forgotten. There is something tragic about theinjustice of it. But Watt, I am glad to say, lived long enough towitness the service he had done mankind and enjoy an honored place amongthe great of the world."
"Is the kind of engine Watt invented now in use?" Doris inquired.
"Yes, that is a double-acting or reciprocating engine of a more perfecttype," her father returned. "Mechanics and engineers went on improvingWatt's engine just as he had improved those that had preceded it. It isinteresting, too, to notice that after thousands of years scientistshave again worked around to the steam turbine described so long ago inthe Alexandrian records. This engine, although it does away with many ofthe moving parts introduced by Newcomen, preserves the essentialprinciples of that early engine combined with Watt's later improvements.To-day we have a number of different kinds of engines, their varietydiffering with the purpose to which they are applied. Their cost,weight, and the space they require have been reduced and their powerincreased, and in addition we have made it possible to run them not onlyby means of coal or wood but by gasoline, oil, or electricity. We havesmall, light-weight engines for navigation use; mighty engines to propelour great warships and ocean liners; stationary engines for mills andpower plants; to say nothing of the wonderful locomotive engines thatcan draw the heaviest trains over the highest of mountains. Theprinciple of all these engines is, however, the same and for the brainbehind them we must thank James Watt."
"Was it Watt who invented the locomotive, too?" ventured Doris. Herfather shook his head.
"The perfecting of the locomotive, my dear, is, as Kipling says, anotherstory."
"Tell it to us."
"Not now, daughter," protested Mr. Tolman. "I am far too hungry; andmore than that I am eager to enjoy this beautiful country and forgetrailroads and locomotives."
"Did you say you were hungry, Henry?" asked Mrs. Tolman.
"I am--starved!" her husband said apologetically. "Isn't it absurd to behungry so early in the day?"
"It is nearly noon, Dad!" said Steve, glancing down at the clock in thefront of the car.
"Noon! Why, I thought it was still the middle of the morning."
"No, indeed! While you have been talking we have come many a mile, andthe time has slipped past," his wife said. "If all goes well--" The shotfrom a bursting tire rent the air.
"Which evidently it does not," interrupted Mr. Tolman grimly, bringingthe car to a stop. "How aggravating! We were almost into Palmer, where Ihad planned for us to lunch. Now it may be some little time before wecan get anything to eat."
"Motorist's luck! Motorist's luck, my dear!" cried Mrs. Tolman gaily."An automobilist must resign himself to taking cheerfully what comes."
"That is all very well," grumbled her husband, as he clambered out ofthe car. "Nevertheless you must admit that this mishap on the heels ofthe other one is annoying."
Stephen also got out and the two bent to examine the punctured tire.
"I should not mind so much if I were not so hungry," murmured Mr.Tolman. "How are you, Steve? Fainting away?"
The boy laughed.
"Well, I could eat something if I had it," he confessed.
"I wish I hadn't mentioned food," went on Mr. Tolman humorously. "It wasan unfortunate suggestion."
"I'm hungry, too," piped Doris.
"There, you see the epidemic you have started, Henry," called Mrs.Tolman accusingly. "Here is Doris vowing she is in the last throes ofstarvation."
Nobody noticed that in the meanwhile the mother had reached down andlifted into her lap the small suitcase hidden in the bottom of the car.She opened the cover and began to remove its contents.
At length, when a remark her husband made to her went unheeded, hesensed her preoccupation and came around to the side of the car whereshe was sitting. Immediately he gave a cry of surprise.
"My word!" he exclaimed. "Steve, come here and see what your motherhas."
Stephen looked.
There sat Mrs. Tolman, unpacking with quiet enjoyment sandwiches, eggs,cake, cookies, and olives.
A shout of pleasure rose from the famished travelers.
"So it was not your jewels, after all, Mater!" cried Stephen.
"No, and after the way you have slandered me and my little suitcase,none of you deserve a thing to eat," his mother replied. "However, I amgoing to be magnanimous if only to shame you. Now climb in and we willhave our lunch. You can fix the tire afterward."
The men were only too willing to obey.
As with brightened faces they took their seats in the car, Stephensmiled with affection at his mother.
"Well, Mater, Watt was not the only person who lived to see himselfappreciated; and I don't believe people were any more grateful to himfor his steam engine than we are to you right now for this luncheon. Youare the best mother I ever had."
Steve and the Steam Engine Page 3
