CHAPTER III.
NEWS FROM THE WEST
The track was a half-mile one, and, as the length of the race was five miles it would be necessary to make ten laps or circuits. The course was in the shape of an ellipse, with rather sharp turns at either end, where the contestants, if they did not want a spill, or a bad skid, must slacken their pace. It was on the two straight stretches that speed could be made.
At the report of the pistol Noddy’s car shot off as an arrow from a bow, the explosions of the cylinders sounding like a small battery of quick-firing guns in action. But the others were after him, the five cars bunched together, that of the motor boys a little behind the other four.
“We’ve got to catch him, Jerry,” whispered Bob.
“Easier said than done,” replied Jerry, as he shoved the gasolene lever over a trifle, and advanced the spark, thereby increasing the speed of the car. “Noddy’s got a powerful machine.”
“They should have had a handicap on this race,” said Tom Jennings, the young man whom the hotel clerk had asked to be a fourth passenger in the motor boys’ car, so that the conditions of the contest would be met. “It’s not fair to have a high power auto race one of two cylinders.”
“Ours has four,” spoke Ned. “Of course its not as up-to-date as Noddy’s is, but—”
“We’ll beat him!” exclaimed Bob. “We’ve done it before and we can do it again.”
“I’m afraid not,” went on Tom. “That big green car of his will go ahead of anything on this track.”
And so it seemed, for Noddy was spinning around the course at fearful speed, his car looking like a green streak.