ered speed, it crept up to him, and, once more was on even terms. Much chagrined at seeing Tom hold pace with him, even for an instant, Andy shouted:
"Get over on your own side there! You're crowding me!"
"I am not!" yelled back Tom, above the explosions of his machine.
The two were now racing furiously, and Andy, with a savage look, tried to get more speed out of his car. In spite of all the bully did, Tom was gradually forging ahead. A little hill was now in view.
"Here's where I make him take my dust!" cried Andy, but, to his surprise Tom still kept ahead. The auto began to lose ground, for it was not made to take hills on high gear.
"Change to third gear—quick!" cried Sam.
Andy tried to do it. There was a hesitancy on the part of his car. It seemed to balk. Tom, looking back, slowed up a trifle. He could afford to, as Andy was being beaten.
"Go on! Go on!" begged Pete. "You'll have to keep on fourth gear to beat him, Andy."
"That's what!" murmured the bully. Once more he shifted the gears. There was a grinding, smashing sound, and the car lost speed.
