"And often a very effective way, too," rejoined Mr. Ackerman. "In June of 1847 a tremendously exciting race took place between the _Oregon_ and the _Vanderbilt_, then a new boat, for a thousand dollars a side. The steamers left the Battery at eleven o'clock in the morning and a dense crowd turned out to see them start. For thirty miles they kept abreast; then the _Oregon_ gained half a length and in passing the other boat bumped into her, damaging her wheelhouse. It was said at the time that the disaster was not wholly an accident. Certainly there were grounds for suspicion. As you may imagine, the calamity roused the rage of the competing boat. But the commander of the _Oregon_ was undaunted by what he had done. All he wished was to win the race and that he was determined to do. He got up a higher and higher pressure of steam, and used more and more coal until, when it was time to return to New York, he discovered that his supply had given out and that he had no more fuel." "And he had to give up the race?" queried Dick breathlessly. "Not he! He wasn't the giving-up kind," said Mr. Ackerman. "Finding nothing at hand to run his boilers with he ordered all the expensive fittings of the boat to be torn up and cast into the fire--woodwork, furniture, carvings; anything that would burn. In that way he kept up his furious rate of speed and came in victorious by the rather close margin of twelve hundred feet." "Bully for him!" cried Dick. But Stephen did not echo the applause. "It was not a square race," he said, "and he had no right to win. Anyway, his steamboat must have been pretty well ruined." "I fancy it was an expensive triumph," owned Mr. Ackerman. "Without doubt it cost much more than the thousand dollars he won to repair the vessel. Still, he had the glory, and perhaps it was worth it to the company." "Were there other races like that?" Dick asked. "Yes, for years the racing went on until there were so many fires, explosions and collisions, that the steamer inspection law was put through to regulate the conditions of travel. It certainly was high time that something was done to protect the public, too, for such universal recklessness prevailed that everybody was in danger. Boats were overloaded; safety valves were plugged; boilers carried several times as much steam as they had any right to do, and many lives had been sacrificed before the government stepped in and put a stop to this strife for fame and money. Since then the traffic on the Hudson has dropped to a plane of sanity and is now carried on by fine lines of boats that conform to the rules for safety and efficient service." "And what became of Mr. Vanderbilt?" interrogated Dick, who was a New Yorker to the core and had no mind to lose sight of the name with which he was familiar.