The interest of Ned and his two companions, in what Noddy was about to take part in, was not lessened by the fact that young Nixon, the town bully, was their enemy, and, in the past, had done much to annoy and injure them, though, usually, his mean schemes went for naught, because of the bravery and activity of the three boys against whom he had a grudge.
“That’s all I know—what the posters said,” replied Ned. “His name is only one of about twenty, I guess. There are pictures of all sorts of airships, but I didn’t see any that looked like a firefly.”
“Queer,” murmured Jerry. “I wonder what sort of a machine Noddy has?”
“I can tell you,” exclaimed a voice behind the motor boys. “It’s great—regular fly—tin wings—flop up and down—faster than you can count—whoop! there they go—up goes the machine—down again—round in a circle—flip-flap-flop! Start the motor—twist the rudder—look out—here she comes—that’s the way!”
And the speaker, a small youth, very much excited, had to stop, for he was out of breath, so rapidly had he talked.
“Oh, it’s Andy Rush. No need to turn around to tell that, boys,” remarked Jerry, stretching out in the grass again. “Well, Andy, aren’t some of your cylinders hot after that sprint?”
“I guess so—I don’t know—heard you talking about Noddy Nixon—his airship—thought you wouldn’t mind—I came up closer—I heard about it—I’ve seen it—it’s great—say——”
“Have an ice-cream soda,” interrupted Ned, pretending to hand one to the excited little fellow.
“Aw, quit,” begged Andy reproachfully.
“That’s right, let him tell us about it,” suggested Jerry. “Now just shut off a little of your gasolene, retard your spark a bit, and you’ll do better. How did you come to know about Noddy’s machine?”