“Better keep well over, Chunky,” advised Ned.
“I’m not going to give ’em more than half the road,” answered Bob, firmly. “If they want a race they can have it, too.”
He threw the third-speed clutch into place, and the boys’ car shot ahead so suddenly that Andy was nearly toppled out of his seat. The red auto dashed down the road.
Behind it, at a swift pace, there came a big, green affair, almost twice the size of the Cresville machine. It was going at a great pace, a lone man occupying the steering seat, and no one being in back. As the green car shot past the red one, the solitary rider gave three toots to his horn. Bob answered, and then, before the other boys could stop him he advanced his spark, turned on more gasolene, and was away after the green dragon like a streak of red fire.
“What are you going to do?” yelled Ned.
“See if I can beat him!” exclaimed Bob.
“You’re crazy! That’s a ninety horse-power car and ours is only forty!”
“I’m going to try,” repeated Bob, between his clenched teeth.
It looked like a hopeless undertaking. The green car was a quarter of a mile ahead before Bob could get his machine speeded up. When he did, however, the new auto ran along swiftly and easily.
Bob shut off his power temporarily and then, with a quick yank, pulled the lever to full speed ahead. Then he turned on the spark and gasolene. The red auto seemed to double its already swift motion.