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Updated: May 12, 2025
Their Spad machine was one that could be controlled from either seat, so that if one rider was disabled the other could take charge. There were two guns, one fixed and the other movable, and a good supply of ammunition. "Well, I guess there'll be some fighting to-day," observed Tom, as Jack shut off the motor for a moment, to see if it would respond readily when the throttle was opened again.
At length, foaming and endeavoring to throttle each other, the foot of one tripped and he stumbled over the precipice, carrying the other down with him in his arms. The grappled foes turned over in the air, and then fell upon the edge of a projecting shelf of a rock, some half a dozen feet below.
"Get aboard!" he snapped. "Knight at the throttle." Knight mounted first; then Brown, with Tom and Andrews following. Knight jumped to the engineer's seat, and grabbed the throttle. There came the hissing of steam: the engine trembled and puffed. Brown lunged for the sand lever, yanked it open. The wheels spun on the track, then grabbed it, and the engine sprang forward like a beast unchained.
Juan cast away the bit of rod still in his hand and rushed forward against his enemy, seeking to throttle him with his naked fingers. White Calf, quicker-witted of the two, slung the thong of his war club free from his crippled right hand, and, grasping the weapon in his left, still made play with it about his head.
I can bring it up from a creep to to fast enough to scare Grandfather into a fit, without changing gears at all just on the throttle " She broke off to ask, as at a sudden recollection, "What was it about Capua, anyhow?" She went to sit beside Sylvia, and put her arm around her shoulder in a caressing gesture, evidently familiar to her.
"Oh, of course, but then I thought this was only in fun." "It's a race for keeps," announced Cora. "And I think we'll win. That last gasoline we got is the best we ever had. It gives us more power, and the Chelton is running like a sewing machine, as Jack says. I think we're going to win!" She opened the throttle a little wider and the Chelton responded instantly.
"Strikes me as a mighty ugly gash; the thing must be looked to right away. If I let her go, throttle wide, we ought to make Carson in half an hour, and they've a smart doctor there." He said something to his fireman and added: "Get hold; we'll take him along."
The big rope tightened, throwing a spray of water into the sunlight along its length, strained and creaked and the Follow Me's propeller, reversed, did its part. There was an anxious two minutes. Very grudgingly the black cruiser's stern came around. Steve drew the Adventurer's throttle down a couple of notches.
"How much time have you?" asked the friend as he shoved in the spark. "Ten minutes," replied Gladys. "We'll make it," said the friend, dodging between the vehicles that were standing around the disabled truck, helping to pull it from the car-tracks. Getting into a clear road, he opened the throttle and they proceeded like the wind for about six blocks.
So I scrambled up after the pilot to the top of the fence, with a loaded pistol in my hand, a young active Spaniard following with a large brown wax candle, that burned like a torch; and looking down on the melee below, there Sneezer lay with the throat of the leopard in his jaws, evidently much exhausted, but still giving the creature a cruel shake now and then, while Mangrove was endeavouring to throttle the brute with his bare hands.
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