“And a motor-cycle you shall have,” said Mr. Wakefield, “the finest that can be bought. I am glad you took that. It gives me a chance to say that in the future the club intends having some motor-cycle races. Perhaps you will compete, Jerry, and if you do I hope you will do your best.”
“Three cheers for Jerry Hopkins!” called some one, and they were given with a will.
“Your prize is not quite as optional as was Jerry’s,” said Mr. Wakefield, when Ned came forward in answer to his name. “Still we hope you will like it. I have picked out this for you,” and he gave the boy a magazine rifle of the most expensive make, a regular beauty, at the sight of which Ned’s eyes sparkled with joy.
“Three cheers for Ned Slade!” shouted a voice at the back of the room, and Ned was cheered until his face grew red with blushes.
It was not long before all the prizes had been given out. Then followed an entertainment.
“Let’s go back and sit with the girls,” suggested Ned. The three chums moved down the centre aisle, and found that the young ladies had anticipated their coming and had saved seats for them.
Mr. Wakefield sought out Jerry and whispered that his motor-cycle would be ordered at once, and would probably arrive in the course of a couple of weeks.
“Isn’t it queer,” said Ned. “Do you remember that day how we were talking about getting motor-cycles?”
“I remember,” replied Jerry. “But I didn’t think I would have one so soon. I wish you and Bob were going to get them now.”