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. Then it slowed up still more, and finally stopped. Then it
began to back down hill.

"I've stripped those blamed gears!" exclaimed Andy ruefully.

"Can't you beat him?" asked Pete.

"I could have, easily, if my gears hadn't broken," declared the
bully, but, as a matter of fact, he could not have done so. "I
oughtn't to have changed, going up hill," he added, as he jammed
on the brakes, to stop the car from sliding down the slope.

Tom saw and heard.

"I thought you were so anxious to race," he said, exultantly,
as well he might. "I don't want to try a contest down hill,
though, Andy," and he laughed at the red-haired lad, who was
furious.

"Aw, go on!" was all the retort the squint-eyed one could think
of to make.

"I am going on," replied our hero. "Just to show you that I can
go down hill, watch me."

He turned his motor-cycle, and approached Andy's stalled car,