Cab and Caboose | Page 5

left it in the club house, where there would be no chance of
anybody tampering with it; for I've heard of such things happening, but
I ordered Dan to have it down here in time for the race."
"Do you mean to insinuate--" began Rod hotly; but controlling himself,
he continued more calmly, "I didn't know that you had given Dan any
orders, and I sent him over to the house on an errand a few minutes ago.
Never mind, though, I'll go for your machine myself, and have it here
by the time you are dressed."
Without waiting for a reply, the young captain started off on a run,

while his adopted cousin began leisurely to undress, and get into his
racing costume. By the time he was ready, Rod had returned leading
the beautiful machine, which he had not ridden for fear lest some
accident might happen to it.
Then the race was called, and a pistol shot sent the five young athletes
bending low over their handle-bars spinning down the course. They all
wore the club colors of scarlet and white; but from Rod's bicycle
fluttered the bit of blue ribbon that Dan had been sent to the young
captain's room to get, and which he had hastily knotted to the
handle-bar of his machine just before starting. Eltje Vanderveer smiled
and flushed slightly as she noticed it, and then all her attention was
concentrated upon the varying fortunes of the flying wheelmen.
It was a five-mile race, and therefore a test of endurance rather than of
strength or skill. There were two laps to the mile, and for seven of these
Snyder Appleby held an easy lead. His name was heard above all others
in the cheering that greeted each passing of the grand stand, though the
others were encouraged to stick to him and not give it up yet. That two
of them had no intention of giving it up, was shown at the end of the
eighth lap, when the three leading wheels whirled past the grand stand
so nearly abreast that no advantage could be claimed for either one.
Now the cheering was tremendous; but the names of Rod Blake and
Billy Bliss were tossed from mouth to mouth equally with that of
Snyder Appleby. At the end of nine laps the champion of two years had
fallen hopelessly behind. His face wore a distressed look, and his breath
came in painful gasps. Cigarettes had done their work with him, and his
wind was gone. The two leaders were still abreast; but Rod had
obtained the inside position, and if he could keep up the pace the race
was his.
Eltje Vanderveer's face was pale, and her hands were clinched with the
intense excitement of the moment. Was her champion to win after all?
Was her bit of blue ribbon to be borne triumphantly to the front? Inch
by inch it creeps into a lead. Now they are coming down the home
stretch. The speed of that last spurt is wonderful. Nothing like it has
ever been seen at the wind-up of a five-mile race on the Euston track.

Looking at them, head on, it is for a few seconds hard to tell which is
leading. Then a solitary shout for Rod Blake is heard. In another
moment it has swelled into a perfect roar of cheering, and there is a
tempest of tossing hats, handkerchiefs, and parasols.
[Illustration: ROD BLAKE WINS BY A LENGTH.--(Page 15.)]
Rod Blake has won by a length, Billy Bliss is second, Snyder Appleby
was such a bad third that he has gone to the dressing-room without
finishing, and the others are nowhere.
The speed of the winning wheels cannot be checked at once, and as
they go shooting on past the stand, the exhausted riders are seen to reel
in their saddles. They would have fallen but for the willing hands
outstretched to receive them. Dan is the first to reach the side of his
adored young master, and as the boy drops into his arms, the faithful
fellow says:
"You've won it, Mister Rod! You've won it fair and square; but you
want to look out for Mister Snyder. I heerd him a-saying bad things
about you when he passed me on that last lap, and I'm afeard he means
some kind of mischief."
CHAPTER III.
A CRUEL ACCUSATION.
The attention of the spectators, including the club members, was so
entirely given to the finish of the famous race for the Railroad Cup, that,
for a few minutes Snyder Appleby was the sole occupant of the
dressing-room. When a group of the fellows, forming a sort of
triumphal escort to the victors, noisily entered it, they found him
standing by his machine. It was supported by two rests