“Yes, they’ll start, and that will be about all,” replied Jack, with a meaning smile.
For a few minutes there was considerable work getting the dozen riders correctly placed. Finally they were all lined up on the white mark, and the starter raised his revolver.
“Bang!”
Off in the air lazily floated a little puff of smoke. Then the cyclists were off like the wind. My! how they did go!
Noddy Nixon, who, to give him the credit he deserved, was not a bad sprinter, was in the lead. He was pedaling at top speed, for he knew only by acquiring a big lead could he hope to win.
There was an excited shout from the spectators as they saw the start of the race, and realized that the favorite was left in the lurch. But if Jerry was disconcerted, or if either Ned or Bob was, not one of them showed it. After a few seconds Noddy glanced back. He was surprised to see Jerry rather closer to him than he hoped to find him.
“I thought you said the wheels would lag behind,” said Noddy to Jack, who was riding furiously beside him.
“They must have discovered the trick and fixed things up,” panted Jack.
But there was no time to talk. It was to be a race to the finish.