for."
The snow let up momentarily. Through his peephole he watched two huge vans punching their way through the gate. They turned and drew up behind Pit 1. They both had signs:
JIFFY-SPIFFY GARAGE, NEWARK, N. J.
Men were spilling out of the vans!
I had a sinking feeling. He had Mike Mutazione's people as his pit crew! And what else?
Heller reached for a full-visored racing helmet. He pulled the dark shade down. He put the semi in gear and, creeping along the heavily trafficked road, made his way to the gate.
At the guard point he slid down his window. He was holding up a NASCAR card and a ten-dollar bill. The security man sucked in his breath. Heller hastily said, "Don't yell who it is."
The guard shut his mouth, took the bill and Heller was through. He pulled up behind Pit 1.
Mike opened his door. "Hell of a rush, kid, but we made it. We been working all night for three nights. And I got a great pit crew for you."
Heller handed Mike the garbage sack. "Hide this for me, will you, Mike?"
I had another disappointment. It had been in my mind to sort of slide in and pick up that sack. Now I wouldn't know where it was! But what was this?
Mike's crew was unloading huge tanks of oxyacetylene and putting them in padding. What were they going to do? Start the world's most active welding shop?
And another thing, as Heller glanced around I could see from bulges in their heavy tank suits that this crew was armed!
Mike said to Heller, "Why didn't you let the family bet on you? We worked like hell on the wheels. You're sure to win now."
The cover had come off the Caddy. It was visible from the grandstand. A surging cheer went up from the massive crowd.
When he could be heard again, Heller said, "I don't really know, Mike. This is just too crazy a race. Let's get the wheels on."
It was snowing again, undoing all the previous snow-plow work. The crew had the Caddy off the trailer. They pushed it to pit position. It had a huge black 1 on it outlined in gold, and WHIZ KID. The crew was fixing straps across the area where the windscreen was missing.
Three officials, wrapped to their crowns, came up. "You're late," said the first one.
Heller said, "Please satisfy yourselves there is no gasoline tank in, under or around the car and then certify that."
The crew was lifting the Caddy's right side with a hydraulic jack. The inspectors numbly did as they were told.
Heller then said, "Now please inspect the hood and the pan under the engine and testify that they are sealed. Put your own seals on them."
They did. Then an inspector said, "Those wheels!"
The crew had removed the two right-side regular wheels and were rolling up two others. They looked strange. All silver colored. They did appear to be wheels but they had very deep zigzag grooves and they bristled with spikes.
An inspector tapped one. It gave a hollow clank! "Hey, that's not rubber. That's metal!"
"They're internally braced steel doughnuts," said Heller. "And you just allowed a suspension of all rules on wheels."
The inspectors seemed calm about it. But I sure wasn't! They wouldn't blow out!
Or wait. Yes, a .30-06 Accelerator slug travelling at 4,080 feet-per-second muzzle velocity could gouge Hells out of one of those and unbalance it. I was still all right.
The crew had all the wheels on now. Heller bent down behind each wheel. I saw there was a kind of disc above the brake drums. Heller was pulling a wire from the car engine area and putting in place something that looked like an electrical brush. I understood what he was doing. That carburetor developed more power in electricity than it did in fuel. He was grounding it through the four metal wheels instead of trailing a metal strap.
The inspectors wanted to know if the wheels had motors in them. In that event, they'd be disallowed as they were supposed to be wheels, not motors.
"Just grounding them," said Heller. "Lot of electricity around today. No motors in the wheels."
That was all right then. Those
The snow let up momentarily. Through his peephole he watched two huge vans punching their way through the gate. They turned and drew up behind Pit 1. They both had signs:
JIFFY-SPIFFY GARAGE, NEWARK, N. J.
Men were spilling out of the vans!
I had a sinking feeling. He had Mike Mutazione's people as his pit crew! And what else?
Heller reached for a full-visored racing helmet. He pulled the dark shade down. He put the semi in gear and, creeping along the heavily trafficked road, made his way to the gate.
At the guard point he slid down his window. He was holding up a NASCAR card and a ten-dollar bill. The security man sucked in his breath. Heller hastily said, "Don't yell who it is."
The guard shut his mouth, took the bill and Heller was through. He pulled up behind Pit 1.
Mike opened his door. "Hell of a rush, kid, but we made it. We been working all night for three nights. And I got a great pit crew for you."
Heller handed Mike the garbage sack. "Hide this for me, will you, Mike?"
I had another disappointment. It had been in my mind to sort of slide in and pick up that sack. Now I wouldn't know where it was! But what was this?
Mike's crew was unloading huge tanks of oxyacetylene and putting them in padding. What were they going to do? Start the world's most active welding shop?
And another thing, as Heller glanced around I could see from bulges in their heavy tank suits that this crew was armed!
Mike said to Heller, "Why didn't you let the family bet on you? We worked like hell on the wheels. You're sure to win now."
The cover had come off the Caddy. It was visible from the grandstand. A surging cheer went up from the massive crowd.
When he could be heard again, Heller said, "I don't really know, Mike. This is just too crazy a race. Let's get the wheels on."
It was snowing again, undoing all the previous snow-plow work. The crew had the Caddy off the trailer. They pushed it to pit position. It had a huge black 1 on it outlined in gold, and WHIZ KID. The crew was fixing straps across the area where the windscreen was missing.
Three officials, wrapped to their crowns, came up. "You're late," said the first one.
Heller said, "Please satisfy yourselves there is no gasoline tank in, under or around the car and then certify that."
The crew was lifting the Caddy's right side with a hydraulic jack. The inspectors numbly did as they were told.
Heller then said, "Now please inspect the hood and the pan under the engine and testify that they are sealed. Put your own seals on them."
They did. Then an inspector said, "Those wheels!"
The crew had removed the two right-side regular wheels and were rolling up two others. They looked strange. All silver colored. They did appear to be wheels but they had very deep zigzag grooves and they bristled with spikes.
An inspector tapped one. It gave a hollow clank! "Hey, that's not rubber. That's metal!"
"They're internally braced steel doughnuts," said Heller. "And you just allowed a suspension of all rules on wheels."
The inspectors seemed calm about it. But I sure wasn't! They wouldn't blow out!
Or wait. Yes, a .30-06 Accelerator slug travelling at 4,080 feet-per-second muzzle velocity could gouge Hells out of one of those and unbalance it. I was still all right.
The crew had all the wheels on now. Heller bent down behind each wheel. I saw there was a kind of disc above the brake drums. Heller was pulling a wire from the car engine area and putting in place something that looked like an electrical brush. I understood what he was doing. That carburetor developed more power in electricity than it did in fuel. He was grounding it through the four metal wheels instead of trailing a metal strap.
The inspectors wanted to know if the wheels had motors in them. In that event, they'd be disallowed as they were supposed to be wheels, not motors.
"Just grounding them," said Heller. "Lot of electricity around today. No motors in the wheels."
That was all right then. Those
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