“Yes, and do you see who’s riding it?” asked Ned.
“No. Who?”
“Jack Pender.”
“Is that Noddy’s machine painted over?”
“No, it looks like a new one,” said Ned. “Yes, it is a new one,” he added as he got a closer view of the motor which swept by at that instant.
“If he goes in the race we’ll have to look sharp if we want our touring car,” Jerry remarked.
Jack Pender did not seem to care to have anything to say to the three chums, and neither did they seek to speak to the bully’s toady. Bob, Ned and Jerry rode together around the track for several minutes, while Jack occasionally passed them, making swift speed.
“Guess I’ll go off and get some dinner,” Jerry announced finally. He was opposite the gate by which riders left the track and steered for it. He looked and saw Jack coming toward him, but noted that the latter would, in the natural course of events, pass behind him.
“Look out there! What’s the matter with you?” cried Jack in sudden anger. Jerry glanced around in time to see the rider of the red machine steering directly for him, having left his course to do so. A collision was imminent, and only by a skillful handling of his machine did Jerry so manage that Jack only struck the rear wheel with his front one.