CHAPTER XXVI.
JOE’S BIG RACE.
A couple of weeks later Joe procured his wheel, which was worth a hundred dollars. It was a racer, and weighed only nineteen and three-quarter pounds.
Our hero was very proud of the machine.
“To ride on it is like sailing along on wings,” he said to Dick. “Just watch me go!”
And go he did, so rapidly that his chum was soon left far behind.
Several weeks went on, and meanwhile Mr. Johnson was thrown out of work.
This would not have been so bad, but he owed two hundred and fifty dollars on a note, and this was coming due.
He had not the money to pay up, and the holder of the note refused to renew the same.
He spoke of his trouble to his wife and to Joe.
“If I can’t pay up I’ll be sued and sold out,” said Mr. Johnson.
“If I could get the money on my bicycle I would sell that,” said Joe promptly.
“No, I must have the whole amount,” replied his father.
On the very day that the money would come due there was to be a series of races for cash prizes in Cleveland.
Joe heard of the races through Dick, who advised him to enter for the five-mile event.
“You might win something, Joe, and it would be a feather in your cap,” said Dick.
“I haven’t the money to enter.”
“It’s only ten dollars, and I’ll put it up.”
“But the car fares?”
“I’ll pay those, too. You can pay me back out of your winnings.”
“But suppose I lose?”
“You won’t lose, excepting through an accident, and in that case I’ll pocket my loss.”
The proposition interested Joe greatly, and finally he agreed to take Dick up.
Every night he went out for practice, hardening his muscles by long climbs up hill.
He also took much exercise to develop his lung power, so that he could spurt.
“I’ll win something, or else know the reason why,” he said to himself.
By Dick’s request he said nothing of the races to his parents. Dick entered him, and when they went off Mr. Johnson paid no attention.
Behind it all Joe wanted very much to win the first prize of two hundred dollars.
“It would help father out of his difficulty, I feel sure,” he thought. “Oh, I must win; there are no two ways about it.”
Joe knew that both his father and his mother were much worried over the note.
His father had a hundred dollars, but that was not two hundred and fifty.
Joe and Dick arrived at the race track several hours before the races. Joe was in prime condition and felt confident.
As the pair rode around the grounds Dick suddenly called to our hero:
“Did you see him?”
“Who?”
“Lemuel Akers.”
“No! Where?”
“Back of that grand stand.”
“I saw nobody I know,” replied Joe. “You must be mistaken, Dick.”
“I guess not.”
Dick Burns hurried off, while Joe continued to exercise himself.
Pretty soon Dick came back.
“Well?”
“He got away. But I am sure it was Lemuel.”
It was now time for the first race to come off, and the track was cleared of all but those who were to take part.
It was a mile event, and there were twelve entries.
An old favorite won, and this, of course, put the crowd in good humor.
Then came half a dozen other events.
At last the five-mile race was called.
“Now is your time, Joe,” said Dick. “Go in and win.”
Dick accompanied Joe to the starting point that he might hold him up and shove him off at the shot.
Ten young men entered the race, all much older, however, than Joe.
“Who is that boy?” asked several.
“Can it be possible that he expects to win?”
“He’ll be left at the first mile.”
Joe heard the unkind remarks, but he paid no attention to them.
He set his teeth hard and looked to see that everything about his bicycle was in first-class order.
If he lost, it should not be the fault of careless preparation.
There was a slight delay, and then a really beautiful start was effected.
“Go it, Barnstable!”
“Show ’em what you can do, Royal!”
At the end of the first lap the men were all in a bunch, with Joe a few yards behind them.
“Didn’t I tell you the boy wouldn’t be in it?”
“What do they want to let a mere lad go in a race like this for?”
“Well, he’ll be out his entrance money, that’s certain.”
“Don’t you mind, Joe,” cried Dick, and he was the only one in that great crowd to give our hero any encouragement.
Joe smiled to himself when he heard Dick’s cry. He knew perfectly well what he was doing.
All those men ahead could not keep up that burst of speed.
At the third lap one began to lag behind, and Joe passed him.
A mile was passed, and Joe was ahead of three of the racers.
“The boy holds on pretty good!”
“Maybe he’s getting his second wind.”
Two miles, and Joe occupied fourth place.
On and on went the racers. The end of the third mile found Joe fighting for third place.
Another lap, and the place was his and Redding dropped behind.
Then Joe tackled the second man, Clover. But Clover was an old rider, and was not to be beaten so easily. For a lap and a half he rushed on, just a wheel’s length ahead.
“He can’t come it over Clover!”
“Bob’s too much for him!”
Then Joe began to spurt. The end of the race was not far off.
Like a rocket he flashed up beside Clover; it was wheel and wheel for a hundred feet.
Then Joe shot ahead.
“The boy has passed him!”
“Clover is out of it. There he goes down!”
The cry was true. The spurt had caused Clover to faint.
He fell, and his fall caused a general break-up behind him.
But several riders escaped and went on, while the injured were carried as quickly as possible out of the way of further harm.
In the meanwhile Joe kept on.
Barnstable was a hundred feet ahead.
Could he pass the leader?
“I must do it! I must!”
And so thinking, Joe increased his spurting.
At the turn he happened to glance up and in a corner of the fence saw Lemuel Akers. But just then he gave no thought to his enemy.
That race was everything to him.
Another lap, and Barnstable’s lead was cut down nearly one-half.
Suddenly the spectators gave a cry of amazement.
Something had been thrown on the track, directly in front of our hero.
Sizz! Bang!
The object had exploded with a deafening report just as Joe was riding close beside it!