Not so, however, with Noddy’s green dragon. As soon as his car struck the turn it began to skid. He would not shut off his power, but kept on the high gear, and with the engine going at top speed.
There was a cry of alarm, and then the green car left the track, mounted the bank, slid over the top, and came to a halt in a pool of mud and water on the other side of the field. It went fifty yards before Noddy could stop it.
“Go on! Go on!” yelled Ned. “We win! We win!”
Jerry had all he could do to hold the steering wheel of his slewing car, but, by gripping it desperately, he swung it into place, and the red machine started up the home stretch, crossing the tape a winner, for it was the only car left on the track.
A burst of cheers greeted it, and men crowded up to shake hands with the plucky boys.
“Glad you beat the ‘mud lark,’” said the owner of the yellow machine, thus giving Noddy’s car a name that stuck to it for some time. “That Nixon chap thought he was going to walk over every one. You taught him a much-needed lesson.”
Nothing was talked of in the hotel that night but the race, and the motor boys were the heroes of the occasion. Noddy did not appear, and it was learned that he had to hire men and teams to get his car out of the mud.
The motor boys started for home the next day, and thought they were going to make it in good time, but they had a tire accident on the road, when about twenty-five miles away, and decided to stay in the nearest village over night, as they had no spare shoe for the wheel.
As they left their car by the roadside, and tramped into the town, to send word to the nearest garage, they saw a cloud of dust approaching.
“Here comes a car,” said Bob. “Maybe we can get help.”