Journey In Time to Cleopatra Helmar Lewis

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Journey In Time to Cleopatra  by  Helmar Lewis

Journey In Time to Cleopatra by Helmar Lewis
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Hank entered the Indianapolis race with a new fuel in his racer--and wound up twenty centuries in the past!ExcerptIt happened all on account of Futsy Dugan. Futsy was one of those guys whos always futsing around with this, that and the other thing.MoreHank entered the Indianapolis race with a new fuel in his racer--and wound up twenty centuries in the past!ExcerptIt happened all on account of Futsy Dugan.

Futsy was one of those guys whos always futsing around with this, that and the other thing. If he wasnt trying to invent a new kind of rocket racer, then he was almost blowing all us out of house, home and happiness with a new mixture of oil for my racing buggy. As a matter of fact, thats just what he was doing when all this happened.You see, Im Hank Conners.

You mustve heard about me. Im one of them auto-racers you see shooting abound a track like as if they was nuts. Some of the guys in the know say as how Im one of the best. Maybe I am.Anyhow, I was born with a tire-wrench in one hand, an oil-pump handle in the other and the smell of exhaust gas in my nose. On account of my old man was the Billy Conners, grand old man of the auto-racers, and you heard of him! Him and my mother used to go barnstorming around the fairs for their living. And I was born one day right after my mother had cracked her bus up in a bad spill.But getting back to Futsy --He was my boss mechanic and a better guy never walked the earth.

What he didnt know about automobiles in general --and my Diesel auto-racer in particular --just wasnt worth knowing.I dont know where he found the time to do it--but Futsy read a book, a chemistry book. And it was all about how you put this kind of stinky stuff in that kind of stinky stuff and you got another kind of stinky stuff. Anyhow, Futsy said as how he was sure he could get an oil mixture thatd do wonders with my Diesel.It did!

Futsy had no idea about the kind of wonders it was going to do. Maybe he might have gotten a good idea if he knew what happened to all the wrenches and bolts and a lot of other auto equipment that began to disappear just when he started to work on his new oil-mixture. Futsy blamed it onto thieves and let it go at that on account of he was too busy with his oil-mixture experiments to worry about it.

But it was me that shelled out the dough for all that stuff and I was plenty het up about it. I even socked a big roustabout at the track on account of he called me a liar when I accused him of heisting all that stuff.Anyhow, it all happened one day when we was down at the Indianapolis brick-track for one of the biggest races of the year. My little Diesel job was all tuned up and running as sweet as a green-grass filly just out of the feed-box. We was cooking with good old oil, but Futsy says as how hed got the formula for the new oil all worked out and hed made up a big batch of it for us to use in the race.

Me, I dont go for that new-fangled stuff and I tried to rule it out. But Futsy, he was so het up about what his new oil could do, he insisted almost with tears in his eyes that we try the stuff out at least.Jus gimme one break, Hank! he says.Suppose it dont work! I says.It will! Futsy insists.



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