"They're not afraid of the Jarrot cars, King," returned Trueman. "We haven't cut much of a figure in these Western races so far."
"Well, you're going to cut a big figure in this race, Mr. Trueman, for it's my opinion you have the car to do it."
For a week after that Matt went over the circuit every morning, studying it thoroughly. Having a retentive memory, he came to know every part of it as he knew his two hands. Sometimes Mr. Trueman went with him, and once Carl went along. But one trip was enough for Carl. The way Matt hurled the car through the air gave the Dutch boy an experience that he never forgot. Carl made up his mind that he'd rather hear the racing talk than take part in the race itself.
In one respect, the Number Thirteen bore out its unlucky significance, for Matt did not make a trial ride around the circuit that something did not go wrong, and several times he averted a bad accident only by his quickness and presence of mind.
On one ride the feed-pipe between the gasoline-tank and the carburetor became clogged, and he had to disconnect it and clean it; another time a tire blew up; and again, it was the chain, once more flying off and missing his head by an uncomfortably narrow margin. The car certainly seemed to be working through a very severe case of "hoodoo."
Mr. Trueman was vastly exercised over these mishaps. He was beginning to feel as though there was something radically wrong about the car's construction, and that its chance of running well in the race, say nothing of winning, was decreasing to the vanishing point.
But Matt was not greatly disturbed.
"We're having all our troubles during the trials, Mr. Trueman," he explained, "and when the race comes we'll go over the course the six times without a hitch. Stage people say that when the last dress rehearsal goes badly the first performance is always sure to go smoothly."
Although Trueman admired Matt's spirit, for his own part he still continued dubious.
During Matt's week of hard, gruelling work, fortune was kind to him in one respect, for Sercomb and his friends left him severely alone. For one thing, every driver in the race had his hands full and found no time to give attention to anything else.