Such terms as “gear ratios,” “revolutions per minute” and “three point suspension” filled the air, and Mr. Hollis whispered to Mr. Thompson: “I’ll wager that those boys saturate their handkerchiefs with gasoline, so that whenever they get a block away from a machine they can smell gasoline and feel at home again.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if they did,” laughed Mr. Thompson.
“Here, you fellows come out of your trance,” called Dick, and Bert and Ralph turned quickly around and saluted.
Their leaders returned the salute, and Mr. Thompson said: “Well, I suppose both you boys think you have a pretty fast machine there. How would you like to have a test of speed?”
There was a chorus of excited cries and exclamations from the boys, and their leaders smiled indulgently.
Bert stepped forward and said: “I think, sir, that I speak for Mr. Quinby as well as myself when I say that nothing would suit us better.” Ralph gave a nod of assent and Bert went on: “We will both promise to be cautious, and I think if we take proper precautions we will be able to run off a good race without an accident. How long do you think the race ought to be?”
“How long is the track that you propose using?” inquired Mr. Hollis.
“Why, it’s just one mile, isn’t it Ralph?” asked Mr. Thompson.
“Yes, sir,” replied Ralph.
“Well, it seems to me,” said Mr. Thompson, “that ten miles, that is ten full laps around the track, ought to be about right. Will that be satisfactory to you, Mr. Hollis?”