Then, as they rode through town, across the bridge and to the park, Matt told of his troubles with Sercomb and his friends, and how trickery had prevented him from getting in the race for the Stark-Frisbie people. Matt felt that Trueman should know all about that phase of the matter, and he went into it in detail. To his surprise Trueman reached over and grabbed his hand.
"You're just the fellow to make a showing in this race, King," said he earnestly, "and, speaking from a selfish point of view, I wouldn't have your personal relations any different. Sercomb is the fellow you'll have to beat, for he's Stark-Frisbie's crack man, and Stark-Frisbie have a car in this race that's going to walk away from all three of Bly-Lambert's. The surest way for you to down Sercomb, and give him his due, is by beating him; it's the only way, too, for you to prove to Colonel Plympton that the deal Sercomb says you made with the Bly-Lambert people is all moonshine. Sercomb has run losing races for the last three years, but this year Plympton has given him a car that's the fastest thing on wheels—excepting our own Number Thirteen."
"If it's in this car, Mr. Trueman," answered Matt with a flash of resolution, "I'll be the first man over the tape at the end of the last round."
Reaching the park and the race track, Matt drove the car to the position from which the start was to be made. Halfway around the track they went to a place where a section of the high board fence had been removed. Here the course led out of the park grounds and struck into a level sweep of road that led toward the river. Where the road turned to follow the river bank a sharp curve had to be negotiated. After that, for some four or five miles, the road wound easily through the trees.
"You may have trouble here, King," said Trueman. "When the dust is thick and racing-cars are ahead and behind you, it would be the easiest thing in the world to swerve a shade too far and butt into a tree."
"We'll have to look out for that," replied Matt, his keen eyes watching every part of the way as they went along.
There was another hard turn where the course left the river road, but from that on there were twenty miles of level prairie, with packed earth like asphalt under the wheels. The car reeled off sixty miles an hour on this stretch, and would hardly have overturned a glass of water placed on the flat top of the hood.
The end of the twenty miles brought them to a village called Le Loup. Here the road bent to the north and east and climbed a long low hill, gradually changing its course to the south. Just over the hill was a collection of shanties near a coal mine, and known locally by the name of Coal Run.
From Coal Run back to the break in the park fence, the course was south and west, splendid going all the way. When the track was reached Matt let the car out on the way to the starting point. At that place the first accident happened, and the left-hand chain flew off, hurtling through the air for fifty feet and landing in the paddock.
Matt brought the car to a halt without accident, found the chain, brought it back and adjusted it with a fresh link.