Bert Wilson's Twin Cylinder Racer Part 17

"Well, that's just as you say," agreed Meyers, "but here we are now.

Pretty nifty building, don't you think?"

It was indeed a handsome house into which he presently ushered them, and they soon saw that its interior did not belie its outward appearance.

The rooms were large, and furnished comfortably and in good taste.

In the front room several fine looking young fellows were engaged in a laughing conversation. They broke off when they caught sight of Meyers and the three strangers with him. Introductions were soon made, and the three comrades found themselves made thoroughly at home.

Of course, the chief topic of conversation was Bert's journey, and he answered questions until he was tired.

"Here, fellows," said Meyers, perceiving this, "I think we've cross-examined Wilson enough for the present. Anyway, dinner's ready, and we'll see if you can eat as well as you can ride."

"Lead me to it," exclaimed Bert, "I'm as hungry as a wolf."

They were soon seated around a table on which was set forth a substantial meal, and it is almost needless to say that they all did it ample justice.

During the meal the chief topic of discussion, next to Bert's record-breaking feat, was the forthcoming race at the big saucer track, in which riders from all over the world were to compete.

Bert listened with great attention, for it was of the most vital importance to him to know as much as possible of the track on which he was scheduled to pit his skill and courage against the best and most experienced motorcyclists of the globe. Of course, he would be given ample time to practice and learn the tricks of the big saucer for himself, but his experience of life so far had taught him not to neglect even the slightest bit of knowledge that might make for success.

In due course of time the meal was despatched, and they returned to the lounging room. A couple of pleasant hours were spent in conversation and joking, and swapping tales of eventful rides under every conceivable condition of sunshine and storm.

At last Bert rose, and said, "Well, boys, I've certainly enjoyed my visit, but I'm afraid I'll have to make a break"--consulting his watch.

"I've had a mighty hard time of it lately, and I'm about all in."

He shook hands all around, and with many expressions of friendship from the club members and amid hearty invitations to call again, Bert and his companions took their departure.

"I suppose you'll begin practicing at the track pretty soon now, won't you, Bert?" asked Tom, as they turned their steps toward the hotel.

"You suppose right, old timer," said Bert, slapping him affectionately on the shoulder, "to-morrow, or maybe the day after, I'll get down to business. I want to know that track as well as I know the back yard at home before the day of the race."

"You can't know too much about it, that's certain," said d.i.c.k, soberly.

"You haven't had much practice in that sort of racing, Bert, and I'm almost afraid to have you try it."

"Nonsense," laughed Bert, "why, I'll be safer there than I would be dodging autos on Broadway, back in little old New York. Don't worry about me. I'll put the jody sign on all of them, provided, of course, that my machine doesn't take it into its head,--or into its gasoline tank--to blow up, or something else along the same line."

"Heaven forbid," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed d.i.c.k, piously, "but I guess we'd better change the subject. It isn't a very cheerful one at best."

"You're right, it isn't," agreed Bert, "but those club fellows gave me some good tips regarding the track. They seem to know what they're talking about."

"They're a great crowd," said Tom, enthusiastically, "and they know how to do things up right, too. They certainly gave us a fine dinner."

"No doubt about it," concurred Bert, "but it's made me feel mighty sleepy. I haven't slept in so long that I'm afraid I've forgotten how."

"Well, here we are at the hotel, anyway," laughed d.i.c.k, "so you'll soon have the chance to find out."

After a little more conversation they parted and went to their rooms.

The last thing Bert heard as he dropped off to sleep was the strident cry of a newsboy. "Wuxtra! Wuxtra! All about Wilson winning the transcontinental race. Wuxtra! Wuxtra!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE WONDERFUL CITY

"And now for the Exposition," cried Bert, as after a solid sleep and an equally solid breakfast they reached their rooms and looked out over the city glittering in the morning sun.

"For your Exposition," corrected Tom. "Yes," he went on, as he noted Bert's look of surprise, "that's exactly what I mean. For if it hadn't been for you, when you discovered the plot to blow up the Panama Ca.n.a.l, there would have been no Exposition at all, or, at any rate, a very different one from this. The bands would have been playing the 'Dead March in Saul,' instead of 'Hail Columbia' and the 'Star-Spangled Banner.'"

Nor was Tom far from the truth. Before the minds of the boys came up that night in Panama, when Bert, crouching low beneath the window of the j.a.panese conspirators, had overheard the plot to destroy the great Ca.n.a.l. They saw again the struggle in the library; the fight for life in the sinking boat in the Caribbean Sea; the rescue by the submarine and the cutting of the wires that led to the mined gate of the Gatun Locks.

Had it not been for Bert's quick wit and audacity, the carefully-planned plot of the j.a.panese Government to keep the larger part of the American fleet on the Atlantic side, while they themselves made a dash for the Pacific slope, might easily have succeeded, and, at the very moment the boys were speaking, the whole country west of the Rocky Mountains might have been fast in the grip of the j.a.panese armies. But the discovery of the plot had been its undoing. The matter had been hushed up for official reasons, and only a very few knew how nearly the two nations had been locked in a life and death struggle for the control of the Western ocean.

And now the peril was over. Never again would the United States be caught napping. War indeed might come--it probably would, some time--but America's control of the coast was a.s.sured. At Colon on the Atlantic side and Panama at the Pacific end, impregnable forts and artillery bade defiance to all the fleets of East or West. Great navies on either side would be kept in easy reach in case of attack, and the combined land and sea forces would be invincible against any combination likely to be brought against them.

And it was this great achievement of American enterprise--the opening of the Ca.n.a.l--that the Exposition, now in full swing, was intended to celebrate. Its official designation was the "Panama-Pacific International Exposition." And it was fitting that it should be held at San Francisco, the Queen City of the West, because it was of preeminent importance to the Pacific slope.

For this silver strip of water, fifty miles long, that stretched between the Atlantic and Pacific, brought the West nine thousand miles nearer to Europe by water than it had been before. The long journey round the Horn, fraught with danger and taking months of time, would henceforth be unnecessary. It gave an all-water route that saved enormously in freights, and enabled shipments to be made without breaking bulk. It diverted a vast amount of traffic that had hitherto gone through the Suez Ca.n.a.l. It gave a tremendous impetus to the American merchant marine and challenged the right of Great Britain longer to "rule the waves."

And, by enabling the entire naval strength of the country to be a.s.sembled quickly in case of need, it a.s.sured the West against the "yellow peril" that loomed up on the other side of the sea.

But, above and apart from the local interests involved, was the patriotic rejoicing in which all the nation shared. The American Eagle felt that it had a right to scream over the great achievement. For great it certainly was--one of the most marvelous in the history of the world.

The dream of four hundred years had become a realized fact. Others had tried and failed. France with her scientific genius and unlimited resources had thrown up her hands in despair. Then America had taken it up and carried it through to a glorious conclusion. Four hundred millions of dollars had been expended on the colossal work. But this was not the most important item. What the country was proud of was the pluck, the ingenuity, the determination, that in the face of all kinds of dangers--dangers of flood, of pestilence, of earthquakes, of avalanche--had met them all in a way to win the plaudits of mankind.

In the case of the boys, this pride was, of course, intensified by the fact that they had visited the country and seen its wonders at first hand. From Colon to Panama, from the Gatun Dam to the Miraflores Locks, they had gone over every foot of ground and water. Its gates, its cuts, its spillways, its tractions--all of these had grown familiar by actual inspection. Add to this the exulting consciousness that they had been concerned in its salvation, when threatened by their country's foes, and it can readily be imagined how eager they were to see all the wonders of the Exposition that was to celebrate its completion.

"It's got to be a pretty big thing to satisfy my expectations," said d.i.c.k, as they neared the grounds.

"Well," remarked Bert, "I've never seen a world's fair, but, from what I've heard, this goes ahead of all of them. Even the Chicago Fair, they say, can't hold a candle to it. A fellow was telling me----"

But just then, as they turned a curve, they came in full view of the grounds, and stopped short with a gasp of admiration.

It was a magnificent picture--a splendid gem, with the California land and sky as its setting.

A glorious city had sprung up as though by the waving of an enchanter's wand. On every side rose towers, spires, minarets and golden domes. The prosaic, every-day world had vanished, and, in its place had come a dream city such as might have been inspired by the pages of the "Arabian Nights." It almost seemed as though a caravan laden with silks and spices of the East might be expected at any moment to thread the courts and colonnades, or a regiment of Janissaries, with folded fez and waving scimitars, spur their horses along the road. The very names of the buildings were redolent of romance. There was the "Court of the Four Seasons," the "Court of the Sun and Stars," the "Tower of Jewels" and the "Hall of Abundance." And the illusion was heightened by the glorious sunshine and balmy air that makes San Francisco the Paradise of the Western Continent.

The Exposition grounds, covering a vast extent of s.p.a.ce, had been chosen with marvelous taste and judgment and a keen eye for the picturesque.

The finest talent to be found anywhere had been expended on the location, the approaches and the grouping of the buildings, so as to form a harmonious combination of grace and fitness and beauty. It was a triumph of architecture and landscape gardening. Nature and art had been wedded and the result was bewildering and overpowering. It had never been approached by any Exposition in the world's history.

The site was a level s.p.a.ce surrounded on east, west and south by sloping hills. Standing on these heights, one looked down as upon a vast amphitheater. On the north it faced the waters of San Francis...o...b..y, the waves gleaming in the sun and the sea lions playing about the rocks of the Golden Gate. Across the Bay could be seen towering mountains, their summits alternately shrouded in a tenuous haze and glistening in golden glory.

On the harbor side was an esplanade, eighteen hundred feet long and three hundred feet wide, adorned with marble statues and gorgeous foliage and plashing fountains. Opening directly from this was the main group of palaces--fitly so called--devoted to the more important objects of the Fair. These were cl.u.s.tered about the great Court of the Sun and Stars. Around the Court stood over one hundred pillars, each surmounted by a colossal figure representing some particular star. Upon a huge column stood a globe, symbol of the Sun, and about the column itself was a spiral ascent, typifying the climbing hopes and aspirations of the human race. Nearby rose the splendid Tower of Jewels, four hundred and fifty feet in height, its blazing dome reflecting back the rays of the sun, while jewels set in the walls--agate, beryl, garnet and chrysolite--bathed the interior in luminous splendor.

The Court of the Four Seasons was designed to show the conquest of man over the forces of nature. The Hall of Abundance overflowed with the rich products brought from the four corners of the earth. The East and West were typified by two groups, one showing the customs of the Orient and the other exhibiting the progress made by Western civilization.

Between them stood a prairie schooner, emblem of the resistless tide of immigration toward the setting sun.

"Westward the course of empire takes its way, The first four acts already past; A fifth shall close the drama and the day, Time's n.o.blest offspring is its last,"