in her."

"Yes, and she hasn't had a chance to cool down. Run her out."

Blake fairly leaped toward the shed where he had wheeled the motor
cycle. In another instant he and Joe were trundling it down the
gravel walk to the road.

As they reached the highway they could hear, growing fainter and
fainter, the "thump-thud," of the hoofs of the runaway horse.

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