Coulter and Paxton continued to keep to the middle of the road and it was utterly impossible for the others to pass them.
“This is a trick—to keep us in a pocket and hold us back,” muttered Jack. “It’s the meanest thing I ever heard of.”
“We ought to bump into them and send them flying,” growled Pepper.
“If you do that you’ll be disqualified,” said Andy.
Paxton and Coulter now spurted up a little. They did this just to pass the next guard in good form. But as soon as the guard had been left behind they dropped down to their six-mile-an-hour gait once more.
“If we can’t pass them we might as well give up right now,” declared Pepper. “I declare, I never felt so much like punching a fellow in my life!” he added, vehemently.
“I think I know a way out of this!” cried Jack, suddenly. “Let me get a little ahead of you and watch me closely.”
The others were willing to try anything and dropped behind as the young major desired. About an eighth of a mile more was covered and they came to another turn, where the road ran slightly down hill. Here the trees were thicker than ever, so that to pass Coulter and Paxton would have been utterly impossible.
“Wonder what Jack has up his sleeve,” mused Andy.
The question was speedily answered. As the turn of the road was gained there appeared a foot path between the trees, running parallel to the highway and distance from it less than five yards. Onto this foot path spun Jack, and Pepper and Andy came directly after him. The path was smooth and spongy and the bicycles flew over it “like greased lightning,” as Jack said afterwards.