“There she goes!” yelled several.
But there followed only a whistle, a wheeze, and a sort of apologetic cough from the motor. Then, with a gentle sigh, the overworked machine “went dead” and stopped. But oh what a scene of wreck, ruin and desolation!
[CHAPTER VI]
NODDY IN A ROW
Following the noise of the swiftly-running motor, the shouts of the crowd and the crash as the lemonade stand was demolished, there came a period of silence. No one seemed to know what to do or say.
Jerry and his chums watched Noddy pick himself up from a pile of soft dirt, where he had leaped just before his tin fly crashed into the stand. The bully was a sorry-looking sight, his clothes being thickly encrusted with soil, and his hands and face grimy. He staggered forward and gazed at the wreck.
“Well, it didn’t fly, and I knew it wouldn’t,” observed the fat man. “I told you it was too heavy.”
“Don’t—don’t speak to me!” exclaimed Noddy wrathfully.
“Don’t speak to you! Well, I like that! I guess I will speak to you long enough to ask you for my hundred dollars. I won it on a fair wager, and I want it. Here,” he said to the man who had held his share of the bet, “give me my money. I’m entitled to his, ain’t I?”