"Speed. That is what troubles me. Have I got anything like the
speed I am aiming for?"

"Two miles a minute!" breathed Ned Newton. "Some speed, boy!"

"And must you have such great speed, Tom?" repeated Mary.

"That is in my contract. Not only that, but to be of much use
to the H. & P. A. this locomotive must have such speed--or mighty
near it. Of course, under ordinary conditions, two miles a minute
for a locomotive and train of heavy freights would burn up the
track--maybe melt the flanges and throw everything out of gear."

"Why try for it, then?" demanded Mary.

"It is the power suggested by the possession of such speed that
we want in the Hercules Three-Oughts-One. That two miles a minute
is a fiction of the imagination, cannot be claimed. It is
possible. It is humanly possible. It is coming."

"Then you must be the fellow to first accomplish it, Tom
Swift," Ned declared.

"Of course, if anybody can do it, you can, Tom," agreed the
girl complacently.

"Thanks--many, many thanks," laughed the young inventor. "I'd
be able to harness the sun and stars, and put a surcingle around
the moon if I came up to my friends' opinion of my ability.