NODDY NIXON’S MOVE.
When Mr. Slade had been informed of the outcome of the interview with
Noddy, he said the boys had acted with caution and wisely.
“We will see if Noddy intends to settle and pay back the money,” said
Ned’s father. “If he does not it is only right that his father should be
informed, also the sheriff and Mr. Judson.”
There was nothing to do but to wait until the next day. The three chums
spent some time in wondering what Noddy would do. Then Ned exclaimed:
“Say, we’re forgetting all about the race. Here it is Tuesday. The day
after to-morrow we’ll have to make a try for that touring car, and we
ought to be practicing.”
“Yes, and our wheels need overhauling,” suggested Jerry. “I’m going to
put in new batteries. Don’t want to run any risk of the motor missing
explosions when we’re on the track, you know.”
This was voted a wise precaution, and the motor boys separated, to go
home after their cycles, agreeing to meet in the afternoon on the track
for practice runs.
Through a good part of the afternoon they went around and around at
moderate speed, testing their motors thoroughly and practicing the
turns. Others were doing the same, and no especial attention was drawn
to our three heroes.
Along about five o’clock, most of the other prospective contestants
having gone off, Jerry suggested it would be a good time to give the
three motors a friendly trial. Accordingly a flying start was made from
the judges’ stand, and each of the three boys soon had his cycle going
at almost top speed.
At first there seemed to be little to choose from among them. They
hung well together at the start, and then Ned began to forge ahead a
little. He had acquired more momentum than the others, perhaps, or the
difference that exists in two motors made exactly the same, gave his
wheel one or two more revolutions a minute than Jerry’s or Bob’s.
“Are you on full speed?” asked Jerry at length.
“No,” replied Ned and Bob.
“Turn on all the power you can,” was the suggestion. “Let’s see what we
really can do on the track.”
The muffled explosions at once became more rapid. The wheels whizzed
around the track faster and faster, and Jerry and Bob began to creep up
on Ned, who was leading. Then they passed him, and he was half a length
behind. Again Jerry forged in front of Bob, and it seemed that the prize
motor was going to prove the fastest.
But a careful eye could see that Bob was beginning to regain his lost
ground. The distance between his wheel and Jerry’s lessened until, after
two more rounds Jerry and the stout youth were riding exactly on a line.
Ned was perhaps a length behind.
“I guess this will do,” called Jerry. “Shut down!”
Slowly the motors ceased their rapid explosions, and after another turn
of the track the three boys came to a halt and dismounted.
“We’re pretty evenly matched,” said Ned. “My machine didn’t do as well
as I expected though.”
They separated, arranging to be on hand at the old mill at ten o’clock
the following morning, to clear up the last of the mill robbery mystery.
“Jerry, I wish you would take this message over to Mrs. Northrup’s for
me,” said Mrs. Hopkins to her son, after supper that evening. “I want
her to come and do some sewing for me.”
“All right, mother,” responded the boy.
“Are you going on your machine?” asked his sister.
“No, sis. I don’t want to run any chance of puncturing a tire after
dark. It’s too near the race for that. I’m going to walk.”
Off Jerry started. Mrs. Northrup lived in a cottage about a mile from
Mrs. Hopkins. She was a widow who went out dressmaking. To get to her
house Jerry had to pass the handsome residence of Mr. Nixon.
He looked at it as he went by on his way to deliver the message. There
seemed to be no one about, and Jerry wondered if Noddy was at home, and
what he was doing. Mrs. Northrup was in, and, as she wanted to write a
reply to the note Jerry had brought, he had to wait a few minutes. Then
the widow asked him all about himself and his family, and inquired about
the coming race, which she had heard Jerry was interested in.
So, though the boy had meant to stay but a short time, he was there the
better part of an hour, and, when he had the answer to his mother’s note
and was on his way back, it was nine o’clock and quite dark.
As Jerry came in front of the Nixon residence he was surprised to see no
lights in the house.
“That’s queer,” he said to himself. “The place is usually well lighted,
for they always have company there. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Nixon must be
away from home.”
He was about to pass on when he noticed a faint glimmer of light near
the automobile shed, Mr. Nixon having recently purchased a big touring
car.
“Rather dangerous to go out there with a lantern,” Jerry thought,
“especially if they have oil and gasolene stored there. I wonder if
Noddy is there?”
There was a side street, rather narrow and seldom used, which extended
along the Nixon property to the left. It passed close to the automobile
shed, and a drive-way had been constructed to enable the machine to be
taken out into the side roadway if desired.
Having nothing particular to hurry him, and being of a curious turn of
mind, Jerry decided that he would walk down the narrow thoroughfare
and look at the new automobile shed, which he had not seen at close
range. Accordingly he turned from the main street and soon found himself
opposite the shed. He stopped to look at it, and, as he did so, he heard
voices in conversation. At the same time the flicker of a light through
a crack in the shed door could be seen.
“I wonder if it’s thieves trying to steal the machine,” thought Jerry.
“Guess I’ll watch a little while.”
He took a position behind a tree where he could see what went on without
being observed. The voices in the shed grew louder.
“I tell you I will take it!” some one exclaimed.
“That’s Noddy,” said Jerry softly.
“I know what I’m doing,” Noddy went on, seemingly in answer to an
objection from some one whose words Jerry could not distinguish. “You
can come along if you want to, or stay behind.”
Jerry shrank closer behind the tree. There was a glare of light as the
shed door was opened, and in the beams the boy could distinguish the
form of Bill Berry. That he and Noddy were planning some new escapade
was evident.
“Is it all right?” asked Noddy, sticking his head out of the door.
“Yes.”
“Come on then,” went on the bully. “Put out the light. We’ve got to
escape in the darkness. It’s a good thing the folks are away to-night.
Well, here is where we leave Cresville behind, and those three cubs that
got me into this trouble!”
Jerry heard the sound of the motor car being cranked up. Then, as he
waited in the darkness, he saw the big touring machine glide out of the
shed under Noddy’s guidance.
“Jump in, Bill!” called the youth, and Berry did as requested.
Noddy threw in the gear clutch, and the machine rolled slowly down
the inclined drive-way to the street, right opposite Jerry, who still
crouched behind the tree.
“He’s running away in his father’s automobile!” Jerry exclaimed softly.
“I wonder if I ought to give an alarm?”
[Illustration: “HE’S RUNNING AWAY IN HIS FATHER’S AUTOMOBILE!” JERRY
EXCLAIMED, SOFTLY.]
The motor car was now turning out into the main thoroughfare. It bore no
lights and made scarcely any noise.
“No,” thought Jerry. “Let him go. It may be better that way.”
And so Noddy, afraid to face the consequences of his confessed crime,
fled from his home. Pondering over what would be the outcome on the
morrow, Jerry went home and to bed, resolving to get up early and tell
his chums what he had seen.