THE GREAT BICYCLE RACE
“Now, what is this plan of yours, Pep?” questioned Jack, on the way back
to Putnam Hall.
“Make Carey a prisoner somewhere and scare him into giving up the
bracelet,” was the prompt answer. “I am sure we can do it, for I feel he
must be a coward at heart.”
“But he will not be likely to have the bracelet with him.”
“That is true,” put in Andy. “But we can fix that by making him give up
something else—his watch, for instance,—to be exchanged for the bracelet
later.”
“I suppose it could be done,” mused Jack. “But it would be a ticklish
proceeding, for he might have us arrested.”
“We can do it on the sly.”
“He would recognize us.”
“Not if we were masked. Hurrah, that is the way to do it! We’ll wear
masks and gowns, and scare him out of his wits—make him think the
Whitecaps or Klu Klux Klan are after him.”
This proposal suited everybody, and the three boys decided to carry out
their plan as soon after the bicycle race as possible.
The day for the proposed race dawned cloudily and up to noon the cadets
were doubtful if they would be able to go out—it looked so much like
rain. But by one o’clock the sun was shining brightly and their spirits
revived.
Ten cadets who had wheels were sent out ahead, to station themselves
about two miles apart on the course. They were to keep tally of every
rider and see to it that nothing was done contrary to the rules laid
down.
The contestants lined up in front of the Hall in fine style. Then came a
pistol shot, and off they went in a manner that elicited much cheering.
“Hurrah! May the best rider win!”
“Take it easy, boys, twenty miles is a long distance to cover!”
So the cries ran on as the bicyclists sped down the roadway, their
safeties gleaming brightly in the sunlight. Everybody was in fine
condition, and the race promised to prove a spirited one. Each racer
wore a blue sweater with the letters P. H. on the breast.
Jack, Andy and Pepper started in a bunch, directly after the leaders.
Not far away were Ritter, Coulter and Paxton. They kept close behind our
friends for all of a mile.
“I guess they want us to set the pace for them,” cried Pepper.
“Well, we can do it,” answered Andy. “Pump up, fellows, we want to break
some records to-day.” And he spurted ahead.
Jack and Pepper were not to be left behind, and they speedily caught up
to the acrobatic youth. Than another mile was covered and they passed
the first of the guards along the road.
“You’re doing well!” shouted the guard, as he waved his hand at them.
“Keep it up!” And then his voice was lost in the distance.
“Some of the others are coming up,” said Jack a minute later, and then
came a flash of wheels and Reff Ritter went past them at top speed.
“Ritter can’t keep up that pace,” said Pepper. “If he tries it he’ll
wear himself out before he covers ten miles.”
“Here come some more,” said Andy, and a few seconds later Coulter and
Paxton flashed past.
The riders were now coming to a narrow part of the road. On either side
were low-hanging trees, so the bicyclists were forced to keep almost in
the middle of the highway, to avoid the branches. All in the race were
now ahead of the three chums, who were saving a good portion of their
strength for the last half of the run.
As Jack and his friends turned a curve in the highway they saw Coulter
and Paxton directly ahead of them. The two contestants were side by side
and riding now in anything but racing fashion.
“Clear the track!” sang out Andy, as he and the others came closer.
Neither Paxton nor Coulter paid the slightest attention to the call.
They kept on as before, at a pace of about six miles an hour.
“Hi, you, give us some room!” cried Jack. “Don’t block the road in this
fashion.”
“If you are going to race, race,” said Andy.
“We are racing,” drawled Paxton, without increasing his speed.
“We are not going to kill ourselves at the start,” added Coulter.
“Well, let us pass,” said Pepper, impatiently.
“You can pass for all of me,” answered Paxton. “I am not holding you
back.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Nonsense!” cried Coulter. “Go ahead if you want to—the road is wide
enough.”
“You know that the trees are in the way,” answered Jack. “Now, either go
on or steer aside.”
“Humph! Are you running this race?”
Coulter and Paxton continued to keep to the middle of the road and it
was utterly impossible for the others to pass them.
“This is a trick—to keep us in a pocket and hold us back,” muttered
Jack. “It’s the meanest thing I ever heard of.”
“We ought to bump into them and send them flying,” growled Pepper.
“If you do that you’ll be disqualified,” said Andy.
Paxton and Coulter now spurted up a little. They did this just to pass
the next guard in good form. But as soon as the guard had been left
behind they dropped down to their six-mile-an-hour gait once more.
“If we can’t pass them we might as well give up right now,” declared
Pepper. “I declare, I never felt so much like punching a fellow in my
life!” he added, vehemently.
“I think I know a way out of this!” cried Jack, suddenly. “Let me get a
little ahead of you and watch me closely.”
The others were willing to try anything and dropped behind as the young
major desired. About an eighth of a mile more was covered and they came
to another turn, where the road ran slightly down hill. Here the trees
were thicker than ever, so that to pass Coulter and Paxton would have
been utterly impossible.
“Wonder what Jack has up his sleeve,” mused Andy.
The question was speedily answered. As the turn of the road was gained
there appeared a foot path between the trees, running parallel to the
highway and distance from it less than five yards. Onto this foot path
spun Jack, and Pepper and Andy came directly after him. The path was
smooth and spongy and the bicycles flew over it “like greased
lightning,” as Jack said afterwards.
“Hi! they are off the road!” yelled Paxton, looking around.
“They are on the path!” yelled Coulter. “Come, we mustn’t let them get
ahead of us!” And he pedalled forward with vigor.
“Follow me and be quick!” cried the young major to his chums. “This path
comes out into the road at the foot of the hill!” And away he sped.
It was a dangerous proceeding, for a jar of any kind might throw them
headlong into a tree or a rock. But they were on their mettle, and
willing to take chances, and Andy and Pepper stuck to Jack’s trail like
shadows. On and on they went over the foot path, and out in the roadway
Coulter and Paxton did their best to outdistance them and block their
chances of winning the race.
At last the bottom of the hill was less than a hundred feet away. Jack
saw a straight stretch ahead of him and put on all power. Like an arrow
from a bow his wheel swept on and gained the road well in advance of
Coulter and Paxton. Andy followed, with Pepper overlapping his back tire
by three inches.
“Come on, we’ve got to catch them!” screamed Coulter, in a rage.
“Remember the narrow road at Dunham’s farm.”
“All right, set the pace and I’ll keep up if I can!” cried Paxton.
Jack and his chums were fifty feet in the lead. They watched Coulter and
Paxton narrowly and saw them trying to steal up.
“It won’t do to let them pass us—they’ll only pocket us again,” said
Andy.
“Yes, but they’ll wear us out trying to keep them back,” answered
Pepper. “I must say, they ride well.”
“They can’t keep it up more than ten or twelve miles,” said Jack. “But
they may make us lose, nevertheless.”
Another guard was passed and then came a new spurt by Coulter and
Paxton. They had almost reached Andy when there followed a crash and a
yell.
“Coulter is down!” said Jack.
“Yes, and Paxton smashed into him!” added Andy.
“It serves them right,” came from Jack. “Now, boys, I don’t think
they’ll bother us any more.” And he was right. Coulter had a broken
handle bar and Paxton received a badly-skinned shin, and the two
misguided ones had to give up the contest.
Free to do as they pleased, Jack and his chums now set their own pace
and four miles were reeled off in quick but easy fashion. On the way
they met one other rider who had broken down and given up, and they
passed two more who were almost winded. Then they came in sight of
several others. Reff Ritter was in the lead of the bunch.
“Now is the time for us to make good!” cried Jack.
“All right,” answered Pepper. “Everybody for himself!” and he commenced
to spurt along the level stretch before them.
The three chums had soon passed all but Reff Ritter and Joe Nelson. Of
these two, Ritter was in the lead, with Joe clinging to him stubbornly.
“Good for Joe!” sang out Andy. “I didn’t think he could ride so well.”
“He looks less used up than anybody,” declared Andy.
It was now a fierce grind. They were on the road leading to Point View
Lodge and Jack and his chums looked out eagerly for the Ford girls. They
were at the gateway, holding a pitcher of lemonade and glasses.
“Awfully sorry, but if we stop we may lose the race!” shouted Jack,
slackening his speed a bit. “It’s nip and tuck!”
“Then don’t stop!” called both girls. “Good luck to you!”
Jack passed on, followed by Ritter and Andy. Pepper had dropped behind,
for the awful pace was beginning to tell on him.
“I’ve got to have some of that lemonade,” he said, as he took a glass.
“My mouth is full of cotton.”
“I hope Jack wins,” declared Laura. “He was in the lead.”
“Come some time and tell us all about it!” called Flossie, and then
Pepper leaped into the saddle again and made after the flying
contestants.
On and on sped the leading ones, Jack in advance, Ritter second, Andy
third and Joe Nelson fourth. Then Andy and Joe spurted and passed
Ritter. But the bully clung to them like grim death, and thus another
mile was left behind.
“Three miles more and it will be over,” cried Jack presently. “Now to
put in some of my best licks!” And he rode harder than ever. “Good-bye,
Andy!”
“Oh, you can’t lose me!” called out the acrobatic youth. “I’m not quite
all in yet!”
It was a tremendous burst of speed on the part of the young major and
his chum and it speedily carried them ahead. They reached a down grade
and descended with the speed of an express train. Then they rushed over
a small bridge spanning a brook, and took a turn leading to the lake
road.
“Help! help!” came a sudden cry from ahead. “Help! Robbers! Help!”
“What’s that?” asked Jack.
“Somebody calling for help!” answered Andy. “It comes from yonder
cottage!”
“Look!” ejaculated Jack. He could scarcely credit his eyesight.
“Those fellows with the green masks and green hoods!” burst out the
acrobatic youth.
“Yes, and they are holding a boy and robbing him,” came from Jack.
“Andy, we’ve got to stop this!”
And leaping from his wheel he ran toward the cottage, followed closely
by his chum.