As for the besiegers, they seemed to have settled down to dogged waiting, for they gave no sign, though an occasional movement in the underbrush showed they were still on guard.
Meanwhile, Jerry and Noddy were racing on. Jerry had a good start and sent his car along at a fine speed. The road was rough, and several times he struck large stones that caused the auto to bounce unpleasantly.
Now and then Jerry would glance back to see if his enemy was in sight. After a run of about two miles he caught a glimpse of Noddy’s machine coming after him.
“Now we’ll see who has the best car, and who is the best driver,” reasoned Jerry, and his spirits rose at the prospect of the race.
For several miles Jerry held his lead. Then he noticed that Noddy was gaining slightly. Jerry could feel that his motor was not running as smoothly as it should, and no wonder, for it had been through strenuous times. He used all his skill in operating the various valves, gears, levers, but, do the best he could, he saw Noddy slowly though surely creeping up on him.
“He must not win!” exclaimed Jerry, fiercely, to himself. Then, though it was a dangerous thing to do, for the road was very rough, he opened the gasolene throttle still wider, and the car bounded forward at greater speed.
This temporary advantage was soon lost, however, and Noddy came on relentlessly. For an hour the race continued. The autoists left the small valley leading to the mine and turned into the broad defile.
“Five miles more!” thought Jerry, recalling Nestor’s directions.