If there was one thing more than another that Old Pete liked, it was to smoke. Usually he had to forego this pleasure because of lack of funds. Now here was a chance to indulge. So, after receiving twenty-five cents from Bill Berry, Pete started over to the grand stand, near which was a booth where cigars and refreshments were sold.
Bill looked narrowly about as soon as Pete was out of sight. There were plenty of people around him, but no one seemed to be noticing what he was doing. Quickly Bill pulled a wrench from his pocket and used it on each of the three bicycles. Then he brought out a stick of something black.
“This graphite is well doctored,” he muttered. “I guess it won’t be healthy for the chains.”
He rubbed a liberal supply on the chain of each wheel, and also on the sprockets. Then he rapidly opened the tool bags on each machine, took out the graphite he found there, and substituted some of his own.
“I guess that will do the trick,” he said softly. “And I guess I’ve earned my two dollars, Jack Pender.”
He hurried off, mingled with the crowd, and a little later was in conversation with Jack Pender.
A little later Pete came hurrying back. He was smoking a cheap cigar, and his pockets bulged with others.
“Here you go, Bill, now smoke with a will,” began Pete, when he drew near where he had left his new friend in charge of the boys’ bicycles. “Why, he’s gone,” he went on, seeing the deserted mounts. “Wonder where he went?” However, he did not give much thought to it, and went on smoking happily.
“Wheels all right?” asked Ned a few minutes after, as he, Jerry and Bob came up.