The Motor Boys on the Pacific Or, the Young Derelict Hunters by Young, Clarence

"They're regular 'rah-rah' boys," said Bob, in contempt.

Early that afternoon just before the race Bob, Jerry and Ned spent an hour in going over their car, making some adjustments, and seeing that the tires were in good shape. Almost at the last minute Jerry decided to put the non-skidding chains on the rear wheels.

"Those turns, which are not banked much, are dangerous," he said, "I'm not going to take any chances. We don't want to turn turtle."

There was much activity about the hotel as the hour for the contest arrived. Noddy's car seemed the finest of the six that lined up at the starting tape. The motor boys had drawn a position next to the bully and his cronies.

Noddy glanced contemptuously at them.

"You must think it's winter, putting chains on," he remarked to Jerry, who had been chosen to steer.

"It may be a cold day for somebody before we get through," was all Jerry replied.

"You haven't the ghost of a show," called one of Noddy's companions. "You'll think you're standing still when we start."

The others laughed at this joke, and Noddy seemed pleased. There was a short consultation among the judges and other officials, and, a moment later, a white puff of smoke was seen hovering above the uplifted revolver of the starter. Then came a sharp crack, and the panting machines, the engines of which had been put in motion some time previous, started off together, as the drivers threw in the high speed gears.

The race, which was truly a dangerous contest, was on, and, with eager eyes the motor boys looked ahead on the course.

CHAPTER III

NEWS FROM THE WEST

THE track was a half-mile one, and, as the length of the race was five miles it would be necessary to make ten laps or circuits. The course was in the shape of an ellipse, with rather sharp turns at either end, where the contestants, if they did not want a spill, or a bad skid, must slacken their pace. It was on the two straight stretches that speed could be made.

At the report of the pistol Noddy's car shot off as an arrow from a bow, the explosions of the cylinders sounding like a small battery of quick-firing guns in action. But the others were after him, the five cars bunched together, that of the motor boys a little behind the other four.

"We've got to catch him, Jerry," whispered Bob.

"Easier said than done," replied Jerry, as he shoved the gasolene lever over a trifle, and advanced the spark, thereby increasing the speed of the car. "Noddy's got a powerful machine."

"They should have had a handicap on this race," said Tom Jennings, the young man whom the hotel clerk had asked to be a fourth passenger in the motor boys' car, so that the conditions of the contest would be met. "It's not fair to have a high power auto race one of two cylinders."

"Ours has four," spoke Ned. "Of course its not as up-to-date as Noddy's is, but--"

"We'll beat him!" exclaimed Bob. "We've done it before and we can do it again."

"I'm afraid not," went on Tom. "That big green car of his will go ahead of anything on this track."