“Let ’em sit up and beg proper,” suggested another of the seminary youths.
“Take your turn, brother,” advised another of the students. “We’ve got the road now and we mean to keep it.”
“Be still, Billy,” advised Dan, quickly. “They can hold us back but a little way. The road widens soon!”
But Dan was not a good prophet that time. The students evidently intended to hold back Chance Avery’s rival at any cost. Within five minutes, after guying the Speedwells unmercifully, and holding them down to a snail’s pace, the chauffeur of the heavy car suddenly brought it square across the road, backed a little, and then halted. His car was an effectual barrier to all traffic, going in either direction!
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Some-thing’s-bust-ed!” yelled the gang in chorus.
Dan and Billy then got a sight of the road ahead. It was empty. Chance was perhaps ten miles ahead, or more. And the Speedwells were stalled. The driver of the students’ car could claim that he could not move his auto. There were no policemen about. The following contestants might be held here for an hour, or more.
Dan and Billy were helpless. And the students were having a fine time at their expense. Dan had to fairly threaten his brother to keep Billy silent; to enter into a wordy discussion with the fellows would only have pleased the scamps too well. They were primed to make sport of the Riverdale boys and undoubtedly would have handled them roughly had Dan allowed Billy to loosen his tongue.
For ten minutes the big car stood there, the chauffeur making believe fumble with the mechanism. Then suddenly there sounded a warning automobile horn from the direction of Greenbaugh. A car, in a cloud of dust, was dashing over the road toward them.
“Now, by jings!” exclaimed Billy, “they’ll have to do something.”
“No reason why they shouldn’t hold up the whole string of contestants for a while,” muttered Dan. “Wait.”