“Well, I thought I ought to try and improve my wheel-work,” said Jerry modestly. “I’m thinking of going in the club races that will be held soon, and I wanted to stand some sort of a show.”
“I’d say you stood a pretty good one, if you ride like you did to-day,” interposed Ned. “You went past us flying, and Bob and I weren’t going so slow, either; were we, Bob?”
“Not exactly.”
For a few minutes the boys lolled lazily in the grass, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Then Bob took three apples from his pocket and treated.
“Do you fellows know what I wish?” began Jerry, who had finished his light lunch first. “I wish we all had motor-cycles.”
“It wouldn’t be a half-bad idea,” agreed Bob, after a little thought. “I’m beginning to get a little tired of this leg-work, myself. How about you, Ned?”
“I think I could use a motor-cycle if one came my way,” replied Ned. “That is after I learned how to operate one, and wouldn’t blow myself and the immediate neighborhood up with gasolene.”
“They’re easy to run,” affirmed Jerry, “and no more dangerous than a horse. The catalogue I have says so.”
“That reminds me, are you two going in the bicycle races?” asked Jerry. “You know there are going to be some fine prizes.”
“You mean the Cresville Athletic Club races?” asked Ned.