In truth, if he were not the devil, who could this mysterious chauffeur
be, driving with this unbelievable velocity, his no less mysterious
machine? At least it was beyond doubt that this was the same machine
which had already attracted so much attention. If the police believed
that they had frightened it away, that it was never to be heard of
more, well, the police were mistaken which happens in America as
elsewhere.
The first stunned moment of surprise having passed, many people rushed
to the telephones to warn those further along the route of the danger
which menaced, not only the people, but also the automobiles scattered
along the road.
When this terrible madman arrived like an avalanche they would be
smashed to pieces, ground into powder, annihilated!
And from the collision might not the destroyer himself emerge safe and
sound? He must be so adroit, this chauffeur of chauffeurs, he must
handle his machine with such perfection of eye and hand, that he knew,
no doubt, how to escape from every situation. Fortunately the Wisconsin
authorities had taken such precautions that the road would be clear
except for contesting automobiles. But what right had this machine
among them!
And what said the racers themselves, who, warned by telephone, had to
sheer aside from the road in their struggle for the grand prize? By
their estimate, this amazing vehicle was going at least one hundred and
thirty miles an hour. Fast as was their speed, it shot by them at such
a rate that they could hardly make out even the shape of the machine, a
sort of lengthened spindle, probably not over thirty feet long. Its
wheels spun with such velocity that they could scarce be seen. For the
rest, the machine left behind it neither smoke nor scent.
As for the driver, hidden in the interior of his machine, he had been
quite invisible. He remained as unknown as when he had first appeared
on the various roads throughout the country.
Milwaukee was promptly warned of the coming of this interloper. Fancy
the excitement the news caused! The immediate purpose agreed upon was
to stop this projectile, to erect across its route an obstacle against
which it would smash into a thousand pieces. But was there time? Would
not the machine appear at any moment? And what need was there, since
the track ended on the edge of Lake Michigan, and so the vehicle would
be forced to stop there anyway, unless its supernatural driver could
ride the water as well as the land.
Here, also, as all along the route, the most extravagant suggestions
were offered. Even those who would not admit that the mysterious
chauffeur must be Satan in person allowed that he might be some monster
escaped from the fantastic visions of the Apocalypse.
And now there were no longer minutes to wait. Any second might bring
the expected apparition.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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