“Well, it’s not fair!” grumbled Noddy.
“Course it ain’t!” declared Bill. “We wouldn’t have raced if we’d known that.”
“Oh, get out!” exclaimed the operator of the Wright machine who had finished a close second to Noddy. “You make me tired. If your engine had stopped you’d have tried to win the same way. Get out! Jerry Hopkins and his chums won the race fair, and I never saw a more plucky finish! I’m proud to shake hands with you,” and he extended his palm to the tall lad.
“It gives me pleasure,” spoke the secretary, “to hand you this trophy, and the thousand dollars, and to congratulate you boys on your success,” and he passed over the gold loving cup, and a crisp thousand dollar bill.
“Speech! Speech!” came the cry from the crowd that had gathered; but Jerry, blushing furiously made his way through the press of people, followed by Ned and Bob, and sought seclusion in the hangar. But the mob was not to be denied and followed there, to gaze at the successful aviators. They insisted so on being talked to that, to get rid of them, Jerry did make a few remarks, thanking them for their appreciation, and telling something of how the race was run.
As for Noddy, like a bear with a sore head, he and Bill sulked in their tent, grumbling at the action of the officials in awarding the race to our heroes. But no one paid much attention to them. Jerry and his chums were much relieved to learn that of the two operators on the Curtiss biplane, which fell to the earth, one was only severely bruised, while the other sustained a broken arm. Their escape from death was almost miraculous.
“What was the matter with our motor that it stopped?” asked Ned, looking at the Comet which had been wheeled into the big tent.
“I don’t know, we’ll make an examination,” replied Jerry, who was gazing at the gold loving cup. “Do you know, fellows I’m prouder of this than some of the other trophies we’ve won, and we have quite a few.”
“What did you do with the thousand dollar bill?” asked Bob with a laugh.