"I've lost my nerve, have I, Dace Perry?" Matt inquired, with a half-laugh.
"What else do you call it?" demanded Perry, keeping his black eyes warily on the other's face.
As Matt stood staring at Perry his expression changed to one of the utmost good humor. Finally, with a broad smile, he turned to the starter.
"It looks as though Perry was going to be lonesome, Mr. Carter," said he, "if I don't ride with him. Can you dig up a wheel for me?"
Half a dozen in the high-school crowd set up a yell. "Take mine, Matt; take mine!"
"I know something about yours, Splinters," went on Matt, facing one of the lads, "and if you'll oblige me I'll spin it around the track."
"You bet!" chirruped Splinters, bounding away.
"I didn't come here for a try-out, Mr. Carter," said Matt, "but I don't want Perry or any one else to think that I'm a quitter or that my nerve is giving out. Can I ride in this race even if I shouldn't be able to meet the fellow from Prescott when the big event is pulled off?"
"What's the use of jockeying around like that?" grumbled Dace Perry. "What's the use of a try-out if the fellow that makes good don't hold down his end at the big meet?"
Carter was in a quandary, and cast an upward look toward Major Woolford.