"It certainly does eat up the road," the lad murmured. "I have
improved this machine considerably. Wish I could take out a patent
on it."

Reaching the crest of the slope, he started down the incline. He
turned off part of the power, and was gliding along joyously, when
from a cross-road he suddenly saw turn into the main highway a mule,
drawing a ramshackle wagon, loaded with fence posts. Beside the
animal walked an old colored man.

"I hope he gets out of the way in time," thought Tom. "He's moving
as slow as molasses, and I'm going a bit faster than I like. Guess
I'll shut off and put on the brakes."

The mule and wagon were now squarely across the road. Tom was coming
nearer and nearer. He turned the handle-grip, controlling the supply
of gasolene, and to his horror he found that it was stuck. He could
not stop the motor-cycle!

"Look out! Look out!" cried Tom to the negro. "Get out of the way! I
can't stop! Let me pass you!"

The darky looked up. He saw the approaching machine, and he seemed
to lose possession of his senses.

"Whoa, Boomerang!" cried the negro. "Whoa! Suffin's gwine t'
happen!"

"That's what!" muttered Tom desperately, as he saw that there was