In that was told how they had incurred the enmity of Noddy Nixon, a town bully, who had robbed the mill of Amos Judson of one thousand dollars, which crime the Motor Boys were instrumental in fastening on Noddy.
In consequence of the pending disclosure of his guilt, Noddy had fled from town, a short time before the races, in his father’s automobile. Bill Berry, a town ne’er-do-well, accompanied him. Not long after Noddy had fled in the terror of his guilt being found out, he sent back a letter threatening vengeance on the three boys, whom he accused as being responsible for the fact that he had to leave home.
But the Motor Boys, as they now called themselves, cared little for this in view of the pleasures they anticipated when they got the automobile. It had come in due time; a fine affair, with all the latest improvements and attachments, and was a car capable of making a trip almost anywhere.
The company from whom the auto was purchased sent an expert out to Cresville with it, to instruct the boys in the running of the machine. They learned readily, and were soon able to make short trips on the country roads surrounding the village. This was the first time they had made an extended trip, and the drawing of lots had given Bob the chance to drive the auto, with the result that he nearly came to grief when the dog unexpectedly ran across the road.
For about half an hour the three chums and Andy rested in the shade. It was a pleasant fall afternoon, and though the sun was warm there was a cool breeze.
“Whose turn to crank her up?” asked Bob, for, of course, it could not be expected of him, in charge of the steering wheel, to start the engine.
“I guess it’s mine,” came from Ned, with a sort of groan. His arm still ached from the previous turning of the flywheel.
“I’ll do it—lots of fun—first time I ever had a chance—let me—good for my muscle—whoop!” exclaimed Andy, bustling from the car.
“Oh, it’s good for your muscle, all right enough,” observed Ned. “Go on, I’ll not stop you.”
It was harder work than Andy had anticipated, but he managed to give the crank a few turns and spin the heavy flywheel around. Bob switched on the spark, turned the gasolene into the cylinders, and soon there was a throbbing that told the engine had started. Andy jumped to one side and nearly toppled over.