THE PERILS OF PAULINE

By Charles Goddard





CHAPTER I

THE BREATH OF DEAD CENTURIES

In one of the stateliest mansions on the lower Hudson, near New York,
old Stanford Marvin, president of the Marvin Motors Company, dozed over
his papers, while Owen, his confidential secretary, eyed him across the
mahogany flat-topped desk. A soft purring sound floated in the open
window and half-roused the aged manufacturer. It came from one of his
own cars--six cylinders chanting in unison a litany of power to the
great modern god of gasoline.

These things had been in his mind since the motor industry started. He
had lived with them, wrestled with them during his meals and taken them
to his dreams at night. Now they formed a rhythm, and he heard them in
his brain just before the fainting spells, which had come so frequently
of late. He glanced at the secretary and noted Owen's gaze with
something of a start.

"What are you thinking about, Raymond?" he queried, with his customary
directness.