CHAPTER IV
THE THREE MILE RACE The Motor Boys; or, Chums Through Thick and Thin | ||
4. CHAPTER IV
THE THREE MILE RACE
As soon as Ned and Jerry had congratulated Bob, which they did with glad hearts, they hurried from where they had watched him winning the race, to the place where Old Pete had been left in charge of the wheels.
"The chances are we'll find them doctored," said Jerry. "Only we'll have an opportunity to fix them before our race, if they aren't too badly tampered with."
Bob returned the wheel he had won on to its owner, Sam Morton, and offered to share the prize with him, but Sam would not hear of it.
"I was only too glad to help you out," he said. You ought to make a complaint to the officers of the club about your wheel."
"Wait until I find out who monkeyed with it," said Bob, "and I'll take care of him without any complaint," and he doubled up his fist suggestively.
The three chums, Bob carrying his own disabled wheel, hurried to where Pete was. They found that worthy consuming his third cheap cigar, evidently in great enjoyment.
Jerry and Ned made a hasty examination of their bicycles, and quickly discovered something wrong with each.
"The same scoundrel that tampered with Bob's was at ours," said Ned. "Bearings tightened and steel filings in the graphite. Who was it, I wonder?"
"Say, Pete," began Bob, "did any one touch our wheels while we were away?"
"Not a one, my dear son," recited Pete with a wise air.
"Here Pete, you drop that poetry and attend to business," said Bob, somewhat sternly. "Were you here every minute since we left?"
"I went over to get some cigars."
"And who stayed with the wheels while you were away?"
"Friend of mine. Bill Berry, fat as a cherry," replied Pete, unable to resist the temptation to make a rhyme.
"Look here—" started in Bob, fiercely. "I'll have to—"
"That explains it," broke in Jerry.
"Explains what?" asked Bob.
"Explains who had a hand in this," went on Jerry. "You know Bill, who isn't any too good a character about town, and Jack Pender have been quite thick of late. Two or three times I've caught them whispering together down to the post office."
"Well, what of it?"
"This much. You know what a sneak Jack is, always toadying around that bully Nixon. Well, Nixon threatened to get even with all of us on account of that little spill he and Ned had. This is how he's done it. He's got Jack to do his dirty work, and Jack has hired Bill to doctor our wheels.
"While we were away Bill comes over here, bribes poor old Pete with the offer of something to smoke to leave him in charge for a little while, and does the trick. Didn't Bill give you something to smoke?" demanded Jerry.
"He give me the money, now ain't that funny," sang Pete, without a thought of the consequences of his act.
"That's just it," agreed Ned and Bob, and they complimented Jerry on his shrewdness.
"Oh, that was easy enough to figure out," said the lad. "The question is, can we get our wheels in shape for the race? We've got about half an hour."
The boys lost no more time in idle regrets. Tool bags were opened, and with wrenches and screw drivers the three set to work adjusting the bearings properly. Though this was a somewhat delicate task they succeeded in about ten minutes.
"Now to clean the chains," said Bob. "That graphite must all come off."
"Kerosene oil is the best," suggested Jerry. "Hurrah!" he shouted. "This will do!" and he set off on the run.
In a few seconds he reached a lantern that was fastened on a pole, and used, at night, to illuminate the driveway to the club-house. "This is just what we needed," he said. "We'll borrow a little kerosene from the lamp."
The tin reservoir held more than was needed, and in another minute each boy was busy cleaning his chain.
"Now to put some fresh graphite on, and we'll be in good shape," cried Ned, in high glee over the successful outcome of the plan.
Jerry was the first to take his stick of lubricant from his tool bag. As he did so he gave a start. Then he rubbed some of the black material between his thumb and finger.
"I thought so!" he exclaimed.
"Doctored?" inquired Ned and Jerry nodded.
"Iron or steel filings," he said. "Lucky there is plenty of graphite to be had, or we'd be stuck."
It did not take long to borrow from other cyclists some of the stuff, and the chains were soon lubricated. The boys still had five minutes before their race would be called. They spent the time in resting from their hustling labors. They had fixed things just in time.
In the meantime Noddy had been rather busy about the track. He prided himself on being a sport and was seeking some one who would lay wagers with him. He made several on various events, profiting by what Jack Pender said were sure tips.
"I wonder if we can't bet something on this race we're in?" asked Noddy of his toady.
"I don't see why not," assented Jack. "I think you have a good chance of winning, with those three young cubs out."
So Noddy busied himself, putting up what was a large sum even for a youth whose father kept him liberally supplied with pocket money. As a matter of fact Noddy went so deep into the betting that he had to lay considerable of the money on "wind." That is he did not have in his pocket the money he would have to pay if he lost. But then he did not think of losing.
His last wager, laid just before the time of the three mile race, was with Paul Banner. "Polly," the boys called him, for young Banner aspired to be what, a few years ago, was called a dude. He was fond of dressing in the height of fashion, and liked to be thought a sport. He had a small income, did not work, and spent most of his time at the athletic club.
"I'll give you odds of two to one against the favorite in this race," said Noddy to Paul.
"And who's the favorite?" asked Paul.
"Jerry Hopkins," replied Noddy. "Come, what do you say? Two to one he doesn't win."
"You're on. For how much?"
"I'll lay you one hundred dollars to fifty dollars," said Noddy.
"Done," assented Paul, and he made a memorandum of the wager.
At last, after several events had been run off, during which our heroes had been busy undoing the mischief worked to their wheels, the time came for the race that meant so much to them. The announcer gave the word. Ned, Bob and Jerry hastened around to the track entrance. Noddy and Jack, with their wheels, were a few seconds behind them.
"Well, they're on hand, I see," whispered Noddy.
"Yes, they'll start, and that will be about all," replied Jack, with a meaning smile.
For a few minutes there was considerable work getting the dozen riders correctly placed. Finally they were all lined up on the white mark, and the starter raised his revolver.
"Bang!"
Off in the air lazily floated a little puff of smoke. Then the cyclists were off like the wind. My! how they did go!
Noddy Nixon, who, to give him the credit he deserved, was not a bad sprinter, was in the lead. He was pedaling at top speed, for he knew only by acquiring a big lead could he hope to win.
There was an excited shout from the spectators as they saw the start of the race, and realized that the favorite was left in the lurch. But if Jerry was disconcerted, or if either Ned or Bob was, not one of them showed it. After a few seconds Noddy glanced back. He was surprised to see Jerry rather closer to him than he hoped to find him.
"I thought you said the wheels would lag behind," said Noddy to Jack, who was riding furiously beside him.
"They must have discovered the trick and fixed things up," panted Jack.
But there was no time to talk. It was to be a race to the finish.
"I'll fix them, though," muttered Jack, letting up on his speed, which had kept him beside Noddy, and dropping back a little to the rear.
Aside from the three chums, and Noddy and Jack, there was no interest in the race, for the other seven contestants were hopelessly in the rear. Bob and Ned were on even terms, with Jerry somewhat ahead of them.
"Go on, Jerry!" called Ned. "Beat the big bully!"
"Don't either of you fellows drop out!" pleaded Jerry. "Try to win. You've as good a chance as I."
And then Jerry gave his attention to the task before him. It was no light one. However, he, as did the other two boys, felt the bicycles to be in good order in spite of the attempts at foul play. They were all riding well.
Noddy's advantage in age, his better muscular development, gave him a big lead, however, and for the first mile the gap between him and Jerry was scarcely shortened. Jack still hung on to his comrade's rear, ready to play another dastardly trick when opportunity offered.
During the second mile it was plain to all that Noddy was petering out. His head bent lower over the handle bars, and foam, like white cotton, could be seen on his lips.
"I'm almost all in!" he gasped to Jack.
"Keep up a little longer!" entreated Jack. "You'll win! Why, you've got to win!"
And, to save himself in more ways than one, Noddy felt he must succeed. But how to do it was the question. His heart was beating like a trip-hammer, and his head felt as if it would burst.
He tried to develop another burst of sped, but, as he had said, he was "all in." Slowly he felt, rather than saw, Jerry creeping up on him. He knew that Jack was between him and his rival, however, and he hoped something might happen.
The crowd on the bleachers and on the grand stand nearly went wild as they looked at the most exciting race so far that day. The favorite was slowly but surely creeping up on the leader, and crowding him.
"Go on Jerry!" cried hundreds who wanted to see the plucky lad win. "Go on! Go on!"
"Peg away, Noddy!" shouted one or two of the bully's friends, who had, thanks to his tips or those of Jack, put their money up on him. "Keep going!"
But it was no use. The gap between Jerry and Noddy lessened. Ned and Bob were close behind Jerry, and stood excellent chances of being at least third and fourth. But there was Jack to be reckoned with as well as Noddy, and Jerry knew this. He felt he must keep clear of Jack, for he had seen the attempted foul when Bob was racing.
Then, with a wildly beating heart, Jerry decided that the time had come to make his final sprint. He had just started on the last half mile. He grasped the handle bars with a firmer grip, shut his teeth hard and took a long breath. The burst of speed he then let out amazed and delighted the audience. There were wild cheers.
Noddy looked back in despair. He saw that Jerry and Jack were on even terms. Then something happened. The something that Jack had promised to have up his sleeve. With a quick motion he sent his wheel, ever so little over toward Jerry. The act was hardly noticeable on the stand.
"Keep off!" cried Jerry, seeing what Jack had in mind. "Do you want to have an upset?"
"You never mind me!" snarled Jack. "I'll do as I please!"
Again he gave his wheel a twist. He was now riding dangerously close to Jerry. Noddy was barely a length ahead. There was a quarter of a mile to go.
"Keep back, do you hear!" yelled Jerry.
"Keep back yourself!" retorted Jack.
Then Jack deliberately fouled Jerry. He sent his front wheel against that of his rival, intending to cause an upset. But he reckoned without his host. Bob, who had, by a sudden sprint, approached nearer to Jerry than Ned, saw what was up. Without an instant's hesitation Bob sent his wheel crashing full into Jack's from the rear, and, amid a roar of surprise and terror from the spectators, the two boys went down in a heap on the track.
"He's killed. They're killed!" cried scores.
Jerry, with grim determination in his eyes, rode on, never looking back. Noddy cast a frightened glance over his shoulder, and, when he saw what had happened his heart grew faint. He nearly lost control of his wheel. The little swerve he gave it was fatal to him.
Like a flash Jerry dashed in, took the pole, and with a burst of speed, that set the excited spectators into cheer after cheer, Jerry passed Noddy, and won by a good five lengths.
"Jerry wins! The favorite wins!" shrieked the assemblage.
Though Bob was out of the race, by his own act of self-sacrifice in saving Jerry, Ned had managed, by clever riding to escape the spill. He saw his chance when Noddy looked back, and, with a fierce effort passed the bully and came in a good second.
Even the privilege of being third was denied Noddy. He lost control of his wheel before he could cross the finish line, and one of the stragglers in the race, who had been merely hanging on the tail end, sprinted up and came in third, so that, for all their plans, Noddy and his toady came to grief.
There were congratulations after congratulations for Ned and Jerry. The boys blushed almost like girls as they received the praises that sounded in their ears. There was some talk of the spill, but when it was seen that neither Jack nor Bob was hurt there was no further alarm. At first Jack sputtered and threatened to complain that he was deliberately run down.
"Go ahead," said Bob coolly. "I saw what you tried to do to Jerry, and I know something about Bill Berry."
At that Jack and his bully friend sneaked off without a word. They felt that it needed but a few words on the part of the three chums to get them into trouble, and they were glad enough to escape as easily as they did.
"I appreciate what you did, Chunky," said Jerry. "You practically won the race for me, and you had a good chance yourself.
"I hadn't a chance in the world with you in it," replied Bob. "Besides I won my race, so what did I want with another? I just had to run him down to save you. I'm glad I did."
"I won't forget it," exclaimed Jerry, warmly, as he grasped his chum's hand heartily.
And then the three boys, each one of whom had won a valuable prize that day, gathered up their wheels and belongings and prepared to start for home.
CHAPTER IV
THE THREE MILE RACE The Motor Boys; or, Chums Through Thick and Thin | ||