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The Motor Boys on the Pacific - Or, the Young Derelict Hunters by Clarence Young
page 30 of 204 (14%)
send word to the nearest garage, they saw a cloud of dust approaching.

"Here comes a car," said Bob. "Maybe we can get help."

As the machine drew nearer they saw that it was painted green, and, a
moment later, Noddy Nixon had brought his auto to a stop, and was
grinning at them.

"Had a break-down, eh?" he asked. "That's a fine car you have, ain't
it?"

"We can beat you!" exclaimed Ned.

"Yes you can! Not in a thousand years if I hadn't gone off the track!
Want any help? Well, you'll not get it, see? Bye-bye! I'll tell 'em
you're coming," and, with an ugly leer, the bully started off.

"I wouldn't take help from him if I had to walk ten miles without my
supper," said Bob firmly, and that was a strong saying for the stout
youth.

The motor boys found a good hotel in the village, and the next day,
when their car had been repaired, they resumed their journey, arriving
at home about noon.

"There's some mail for you, Jerry," said Mrs. Hopkins, as her son came
in, after putting the auto in the barn. "It's from California. I
didn't know you knew any one out there."

"Neither did I, mother. We'll see who it's from."
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