Bert Wilson's Twin Cylinder Racer

ying

ere with the riders. There had been no rain since three days before, and the roads, while a little dusty, were firm and fast. Eve

kicking up their heels in a pasture. Dick and Tom were looking forward to the trip across the continent and the wonders of the great Exposition. This of itself would have been enough to account for their exuberance, but there was th

fighter, and his spirits always rose on the eve of a contest. He was "tuned to the hour." The muscles of his arms and legs glided like s

himself was permitted to give it the final grooming. He personally filled the tank, looked to the oil, and went over every nut and bolt and valve. Then he sprang into the saddle and

pretty close companions for the next few weeks, and you've got a big job cut out for you. But I bel

send off. But none were greeted so uproariously as Bert, who had a reception that "warmed the cockles of his heart." Undergraduates of the old college flocked around him, and these were reinforced by hundreds of alumni, living in or near the city, who scented one more victory for the blue colors that they loved so dearly. They swarmed about him, grasped his hand and thumped him on the back, until if he had been in

ed. Then in a whisper, "Ye h

r of his tool box, he showed it lying on top. Whereat,

hines, were drawn up in line on the boulevard that came down almost to the beach. The conditions of the race were read aloud and all of the racers with uplifted hand swore to observe them. A letter from the Mayor of N

he saddle. A tremendous roar from the exhausts made the crowd shrink back, and it scattered as the great machines leaped forward. It was like the bursting of a rainbow. Blue and red and black and white darted forward in fl

ear of all other vehicles, and policemen placed along the route kept the crowds to the paths on either side. The "motor

h steering through the street that they figured would bring them most quickly and easily to the bridges that spanned the river. By the time Bert had crossed the old Brooklyn Bridge, he had lost sight of all his competit

boat and watched the irregular sky line of the great city. What would happen to him before he saw it again, it was fortunate that he could not guess. B

egan to "eat up" the space across the meadows. He was flying when he reached Newark, where he again had to let up in his pace for a f

d express came thundering along at a high rate of speed. The racing instinct woke in Bert and he let his machine out unt

at the seeming impudence, but as mile after mile passed, with the "Blue Streak" holding its own, they became excited. The sportsman spirit that seems characteristic of A

peed. But when Bert hung to his flank and refused to be shaken off, he turned and said something to his fir

n the highest speed and had to grip his handlebars hard to keep his seat as his iron steed responded. He flashed on ahead, fairly scorching up the road, and dashed across the track fifty feet ahead of the onrushing locomotive. Then, as the passengers rus

rst race, so far, and he had come

You certainly lived up to your name that time." And he laugh

e of the added confidence that had been infused into his veins by the successful outcome.

ty left to finish out the stretch that he had mapped out for that day's work, but h

re was something familiar about him and Bert cudgeled his brains to remember where he had met him. The stranger seeme

isn't your name Wilson-Bert

-sure I know," he exclaimed, as recognition flashed upon him-"y

e, when you struck me out in the ninth in

ut when Gunther came to the bat. He was the heaviest slugger of the league, and the home crowd was begging him to "kill the ball." Bert had outguessed him on the first strike, and snapped one over by surprise on the second. Then, on the third, he had cut loose that mighty "fadeaway" of his. For forty f

ften that I hit a foot above a ball, but that fadeaway of yours had me going. I si

," protested Bert. "The brea

ou simply outplayed us. But we did make you wo

y the necessity of resuming his trip. Gunther had heard of the contest and had seen Bert'

I see that you are still playing against a 'nine.' If that pun isn't bad enough,

But now I'll have to skip and cut out the merry jesting. Jump on

u have there," said Gunther, looking admiringly at the

s dare by riding twenty miles or more, before he fin

ar theory that events, good or bad, come in threes. "I guess the third will be

d timers at the club headquarters, and putting up his motorcycle, he tu

dea that you'd hit this burg so soon. We've just fairly got in ourselves. But

wolf hungry? Is a hawk hungry? I

nd it is doubtful if three happier and fuller young fellows could have been found in Philadelphia, as, afterward, they discussed the events of the day. They were especially interested in Bert's me

tioned the ra

eat a train, fellows," he gloated.

questioned Tom

a freight?" b

ert, a little nettled. "A lim

did you say?

oinder, "but as it happened, i

ed Dick, shaking his head. "Tom,

loomily. "The next thing, he'll be telling us that he made a

p at the passenge

at the enginee

sight of his bewildered face was t

Tom, as soon as he could sp