“I guess you’re right,” Ned assented. “I think a few good long trips on the road as a starter would be a fine thing. What we need most is an endurance run, for that’s what will count in the twenty-five mile race that we are going to compete in.”
“I was thinking of that myself,” Jerry remarked. “What would you say to a pretty long trip, say one hundred miles? We could run to Huntsville, which is about sixty miles from here as I figure it, stay there all night, and come back the next day. That would give us good practice.”
“Sounds as if it might do,” was Ned’s opinion. “Let’s go over and talk to Bob about it.”
Eight o’clock the next morning saw them assembled in Bob’s yard, for it had been agreed to start from his house. The last touches were given the machines and, at a signal from Jerry, the trip was begun.
“Where are we going to stop for dinner?” asked Bob, when they had been riding about an hour.
“There he goes,” said Jerry in a pretended complaining voice. “I never did see such a fellow! You’d think he was all stomach.”
“Why,” began Ned soberly, “Jerry and I had about made up our minds that we’d go without dinner. It will be good training and you need it you know, Chunky.”
“Oh!” groaned the stout youth. “Oh dear! If I had known that I wouldn’t have come along. I can’t go without my dinner.”
There was silence for a little while, broken now and again by a deep sigh from Bob. Jerry and Ned had all they could do to keep from laughing, but they managed to keep their faces serious.
“Let’s speed up a bit,” suggested the stout boy, after a time.