Was the mystery of the Great Eyrie to be solved some day by chances
beyond our imagining? That was known only to the future. And was the
solution a matter of the first importance? That was beyond doubt, since the safety of the people of western Carolina perhaps depended upon it.
Yet a fortnight after my return to Washington, public attention was
wholly distracted from this problem by another very different in
nature, but equally astonishing.
Toward the middle of that month of May the newspapers of Pennsylvania
informed their readers of some strange occurrences in different parts
of the state. On the roads which radiated from Philadelphia, the
chief city, there circulated an extraordinary vehicle, of which no
one could describe the form, or the nature, or even the size, so
rapidly did it rush past. It was an automobile; all were agreed on
that. But as to what motor drove it, only imagination could say; and
when the popular imagination is aroused, what limit is there to its
hypotheses?
At that period the most improved automobiles, whether driven by
steam, gasoline, or electricity, could not accomplish much more than
sixty miles an hour, a speed that the railroads, with their most
rapid expresses, scarce exceed on the best lines of America and
Europe. Now, this new automobile which was astonishing the world, traveled at more than double this speed.
It is needless to add that such a rate constituted an extreme danger
on the highroads, as much so for vehicles, as for pedestrians. This
rushing mass, coming like a thunder-bolt, preceded by a formidable
rumbling, caused a whirlwind, which tore the branches from the trees
along the road, terrified the animals browsing in adjoining fields, and scattered and killed the birds, which could not resist the suction of the tremendous air currents engendered by its passage.
And, a bizarre detail to which the newspapers drew particular
attention, the surface of the roads was scarcely even scratched by
the wheels of the apparition, which left behind it no such ruts as
are usually made by heavy vehicles. At most there was a light touch, a mere brushing of the dust. It was only the tremendous speed which raised behind the vehicle such whirlwinds of dust.
"It is probable," commented the New Fork Herald, "that the extreme
rapidity of motion destroys the weight."
Naturally there were protests from all sides. It was impossible to
permit the mad speed of this apparition which threatened to overthrow
and destroy everything in its passage, equipages and people. But how
could it be stopped? No one knew to whom the vehicle belonged, nor
whence it came, nor whither it went. It was seen but for an instant
as it darted forward like a bullet in its dizzy flight. How could one
seize a cannon-ball in the air, as it leaped from the mouth of the
gun?
I repeat, there was no evidence as to the character of the propelling
engine. It left behind it no smoke, no steam, no odor of gasoline, or
any other oil. It seemed probable, therefore, that the vehicle ran by
electricity, and that its accumulators were of an unknown model, using some unknown fluid.
The public imagination, highly excited, readily accepted every sort
of rumor about this mysterious automobile. It was said to be a
supernatural car. It was driven by a specter, by one of the
chauffeurs of hell, a goblin from another world, a monster escaped
from some mythological menagerie, in short, the devil in person, who
could defy all human intervention, having at his command invisible
and infinite satanic powers.
But even Satan himself had no right to run at such speed over the
roads of the United States without a special permit, without a number
on his car, and without a regular license. And it was certain that
not a single municipality had given him permission to go two hundred
miles an hour. Public security demanded that some means be found to
unmask the secret of this terrible chauffeur.
Moreover, it was not only Pennsylvania that served as the theater of
his sportive eccentricities. The police reported his appearance in
other states; in Kentucky near Frankfort; in Ohio near Columbus; in
Tennessee near Nashville; in Missouri near Jefferson; and finally in
Illinois in the neighborhood of Chicago.