“I hear Ned, Bob and Jerry are going to enter the races,” said Jack, after a short conversation.
“Why, you’re not afraid of them, are you?” asked Jack.
“I know I can beat either Ned, Bob or Jerry. The only thing is I’m not in good training and I can’t spare the time. I’m faster than either of them for a short sprint,” which he was. “But in a long race they might down me.”
Jack did not think it wise to comment on the bully’s change of ideas.
“If the races were hundred-yard dashes I wouldn’t worry a bit,” said Noddy. “I could win hands down. But the best race is for three miles, and that—that’s rather a long distance for me. If we could fix things—”
“How fix?” inquired Jack.
“Well,” proceeded Noddy boldly, “I mean to win that race. There’s a first prize, worth three hundred dollars, and I want it. I’m going to get it. That’s all. If I can’t win by fair means—”
“I see,” whispered Jack softly.
“I’m glad you do,” retorted Noddy, lighting a cigarette. “I may need your help. We must beat them, Jack. I hate them!”
Thereupon the two cronies resumed their whisperings, talking in low tones, for they were fearful of being overheard in their plotting.