“Hello, ‘Cider’!” cried the first of the new-comers, “what’s up? Anything the matter with your wheel?”
“I believe there is,” answered the ex-captain, in such a peculiar tone of voice that it at once arrested attention. “I don’t know what is wrong, and I wouldn’t make an examination until some of you fellows came in. In a case like this I believe in having plenty of witnesses and doing everything openly.”
“What do you mean?” asked one of the group, whose noisy entrance was now succeeded by a startled silence.
“Turn that wheel and you’ll see what I mean,” replied Snyder.
“Why, it turns as hard as though it were running on plain bearing that had never been oiled!” exclaimed the member who had undertaken to turn the wheel as requested.
“That’s just it, and I don’t think it’s very surprising that I failed to win the race with a wheel in that condition, do you?”
“Indeed I do not. The only surprising thing is that you held the lead so long as you did, and managed to come in third. I know I couldn’t have run a single lap if I’d been on that wheel. What’s the matter with it? Wasn’t it all right when you started?”
“I thought it was,” replied Snyder, “but I soon found that something was wrong, and before I left the track it was all I could do to move it. Now, I want you fellows to find out what the matter is.”
A few moments of animated discussion followed, while several of the fellows made a careful examination of the bicycle.
“Great Scott!” exclaimed one; “what’s in this oil cup? It looks as though it were choked with black sand.”