chimed in Tom Jesson. Tom sat beside his cousin, Jack Chadwick, on the
driver's seat of a curious-looking automobile which was whizzing down
the smooth, broad, green-bordered road that led to Nestorville, the
small town outside Boston where the Boy Inventors made their home.

The car that Jack Chadwick was driving differed in a dozen respects
from an ordinary automobile. There was no engine hood in front.
Instead of a bonnet the car, which was low slung, long and painted
black, had a sharp prow of triangular shape. Its body, in fact, might
be roughly compared to the form of a double-ended whaleboat.

As it sped along outside the city limits, and immune from hampering
speed laws, the car emitted no sound.

It moved silently, without the usual sharp staccato rattle of the
exhaust. Behind it there was no evil-smelling trail of gasoline and
oil smoke. The car glided as silently as a summer breeze on its
wire-wheels, like those of a bicycle enlarged.

"I'll get a great story out of this," declared Dick Donovan, who, as
readers of other volumes of this series know, was a reporter on a
Boston paper. "That is, if you'll let me write it," he added, leaning
forward over the front seat from the tonneau as he spoke.

"How about it, Jack?" asked Tom with an amused smile. "Shall we let
Dick here get famous at our expense again?"

"I don't see why not," said Jack. "Everything about the Electric
Monarch is patented. The new reciprocating device, and the
self-feeding storage batteries are fully covered. If Dick wants to