"I'll drive it," said Roy recklessly, in spite of Peggy's quavered: "Say no."
"Good. That will give us a fine opportunity to compare the two machines," cried Fanning Harding.
He jumped from the bigger car and handed out his companion. Then, for the fraction of a minute, he bent, monkey wrench in hand, above one of the forward wheels.
"A bolt had worked loose," he explained.
"Come on Peggy," urged Roy, and against her better judgment Peggy, as many another girl has done before her, obeyed the summons, although an intuition warned her that something was not just right.
"Ready?" cried Fanning from the Blue Bird.
"All ready"; hailed back Roy, who found the spark and throttle adjustments of the maroon car perfectly simple.
"Then—go!" almost screamed Regina Mortlake. Peggy was looking at her at the moment, and she was almost certain she saw a look of hatred flash across the girl's countenance. But before she could give the matter any more thought the maroon car shot forward. Close alongside came the Blue Bird.
Motor hood to motor hood they thundered along at a terrific pace. The road shot by on either side like a brown and green blur.
"Faster!" Peggy heard Fanning shout somewhere out of the dust cloud.