Joe held the machine upright while Blake vaulted to the forward saddle and began to work the pedals to start the motor. The cylinders were still hot from the recent run, and at the first revolution the staccato explosions began.
"Jump up!" yelled Blake in his chum's ear—shouting above the rattle and bang of the exhaust, for the muffler was open.
Joe sprang to leather, but before he was in his seat Blake was letting in the friction clutch, and a moment later, at ever gathering speed, the shining motor cycle was speeding down the road to the rescue. Would Joe and Blake be in time?
CHAPTER II
ON THE BRINK
"What—what's your plan, Blake?" yelled Joe into his chum's ear, as he sat behind him on the jolting second saddle of the swaying motor cycle.
"What do you mean?" demanded Blake, half turning his head.
"I mean how are you going to stop that runaway, or rescue those fellows?"
"I haven't thought, yet, but if we can get ahead of the horse we may be able to stop him before he gets to the road-barrier or to the dangerous turn."