Tom said nothing. He merely shifted a lever, and got a better
spark. He also turned on a little more gasolene and opened the
muffler The quickness with which his motor-cycle shot forward
almost threw him from the saddle, but he had a tight grip on the
handle bars. He whizzed past the auto, but, as the latter
gathered 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