“All right, then it’s settled,” exclaimed Ned, slowly rising from his comfortable berth in the grass.
The three boys mounted their wheels and started slowly homeward. They took their time, keeping close together and talking now of the coming races and again of the prospects of owning motor-cycles. At the top of a long, gentle sloping hill, that led down, almost to the centre of the town, the boys put their feet on the coasters and let their wheels glide down by gravity. Soon they were going at a rapid rate, with Ned slightly in the lead.
At the foot of the hill another road crossed at right angles. By reason of a turn to this second road, and a clump of trees, any one passing along it could not be seen until he was nearly in the middle of the hill road.
Suddenly there shot from behind the clump of trees lining the cross-road, a figure on a wheel.
“Look out!” yelled Bob and Jerry.
Ned looked up and saw, but was too late. He could not check his speed, and the only thing to do was to turn to one side, and try to avoid the other rider. Unfortunately the other rider, also seeing the danger, took the same turn as had Ned.
“There’s going to be a smash!” called Jerry in excited tones.
The shock threw Ned and the other cyclist from their wheels into the dusty road. The bicycles went in one direction and the riders in another. Both boys were lying still on the highway when Bob and Jerry came running up.
“Are they killed?” asked Jerry in a trembling voice.
“No, only stunned, I guess,” answered Bob, feeling of Ned’s heart, and finding it beating. “Let’s see who the other fellow is.”