By this time the first race for cars under fifteen hundred cc.'s had started. But Woody was so busy with the Black Tiger that he saw very little of it. Eventually all was done and only just in time.
"Cars for event number two, report to the starting grid," the loud-speaker instructed.
"That's us," said Randy. "Coming?"
Worm pushed Woody into the seat beside Randy and climbed up on the deck behind the cockpit. From all around there rose a series of roars as Jags, Ferraris, Maseratis, Allards, and Thunderbirds eased out of their pits and slid slowly toward the starting area. The noise was deafening and exciting beyond expression. The cars seemed to be challenging each other, showing their strength like gladiators about to meet in a Roman arena.
In this mass of automobiles, some snorting, some purring, some roaring as drivers sought to keep spark plugs from fouling, the Black Tiger slid forward through the pits out to the paved court that formed the starting area. Positions for the start of the race had already been allocated. Only three cars could be placed abreast on the actual starting line. The others were lined up three abreast behind them. The Black Tiger's position was in the fourth row of cars, with a cloud of Jags and Ferraris ahead of her.
Randy, when he had the Tiger in position, buckled the strap of his crash helmet under his chin and pulled on a pair of pigskin gloves. The noise around was deafening. Woody was surprised to find himself trembling slightly with excitement. But Randy seemed completely calm. Worm walked around the Tiger making a last-minute inspection of the tires.
He nodded his head, finding them satisfactory. Woody was watching Randy, who had taken a casual look around at the cars behind and the cars ahead. Randy now cramped his front wheels hard over to the right, but did it without attracting attention. He caught Worm's eye, and Worm gave him a quick wink.
"Good luck," said Worm. Randy waved, and Worm signaled to Woody to leave the starting area and get themselves a position by the racing pits, which were right opposite the starting line.
"Why did he cramp his front wheels around?" Woody asked.
"Just as soon as they drop the starting flag," Worm replied, "he'll be around that Jag in front of him and have only six cars ahead instead of nine. That is, if he's lucky."