As he was older and stronger than any of the other members who took up racing, and as he always rode the lightest and best wheel that money could procure, he had, without much hard work, easily maintained a lead in the racing field, and had come to consider himself as invincible. He regarded himself as such a sure winner of this last race for the Railroad Cup, that he had not taken the trouble to go into training for it. He would not even give up his cigarette smoking, a habit that he had acquired because he considered it fashionable and manly. Now he was beaten, disgracefully, and that by a boy nearly two years younger than himself. It was too much, and he determined to find some excuse for his defeat, that should at the same time remove the disgrace from him, and place it upon other shoulders.
Rodman Ray Blake, or R. R. Blake as he signed his name, and Railroad Blake as the boys often called him, was Major Applebys nephew, and the son of his only sister. She had married an impecunious young artist against her brothers wish, on which account he had declined ever to see her again. When she died, after two years of poverty-stricken widowhood, she left a loving, forgiving letter for her brother, and in it committed her darling boy to his charge. If she had not done this, but had trusted to his generous impulses, all would have gone well, and the events that serve to make up this story would never have taken place. As it was, the Major, feeling that the boy was forced upon him, was greatly aggrieved. That the lad should bear a remarkable resemblance to his handsome artist father also irritated him. As a result, while he really became very fond of the boy, and was never unkind to him, he treated him with an assumed indifference that was keenly felt by the loving, high-spirited lad. As for Snyder Appleby, he was jealous of Rodman from the very first; and when, only a short time before the race meeting of the Steel Wheel Club, the latter was almost unanimously elected to his place as captain, this feeling was greatly increased.
CHAPTER II.
A RACE FOR THE RAILROAD CUP
Young Blake had now been in Euston two years, and was, among the boys, decidedly the most popular fellow in the place. He was a slightly-built chap; but with muscles like steel wires, and possessed of wonderful agility and powers of endurance. He excelled in all athletic sports, was a capital boxer, and at the same time found little difficulty in maintaining a good rank in his classes. He had taken to bicycling from the very first, and quickly became an expert rider, though he had never gone in for racing. It was therefore a great surprise, even to his friends, when, on the very day before the race meeting, he entered his name for the event that was to result in the winning or losing of the Railroad Cup. It would not have been so much of a surprise had anybody known of his conversation, a few weeks before, with Eltje Vanderveer, the railroad presidents only daughter. She was a few months younger than Rod, and ever since he had jumped into the river to save her pet kitten from drowning, they had been fast friends.
So, when in talking of the approaching meeting, Eltje had said, How I wish you were a racer, and could win our cup, Rod, the boy instantly made up his mind to try for it. He only answered, Do you? Well, perhaps I may go in for that sort of thing some time.
Then he began training, so secretly that nobody but Dan, a stable boy on his uncles place and Rods most ardent admirer, was aware of it; but with such steady determination that on the eventful day of the great race his physical condition was very nearly perfect.
He was on hand at the race track bright and early; for, as captain of the club, Rod had a great deal to do in seeing that everything went smoothly, and in starting on time the dozen events that preceded the race for the Railroad Cup, which came last on the programme.
While these earlier events were being run off Snyder Appleby, faultlessly attired, sat in the grand stand beside his adopted father, and directly behind President Vanderveer and his pretty daughter, to whom he tried to render himself especially agreeable. He listened respectfully to the Majors stories, made amusing comments on the racers for Eltjes benefit, and laughed heartily at the puns that her father was given to making.
But how about your own race, Mr. Appleby? asked Eltje. Dont you feel any anxiety concerning it? It is to be the hardest one of all, isnt it?
Immensely flattered at being addressed as Mister Appleby, Snyder replied carelessly, Oh, yes! of course I am most anxious to win it, especially as you are here to see it run; but I dont anticipate much difficulty. Bliss is a hard man to beat; but I have done it before, and I guess I can do it again.
Then you dont think Rodman has any chance of winning?
Well, hardly. You see this is his first race, and experience goes a long way in such affairs. Still, he rides well, and it wouldnt surprise me to see him make a good third at the finish.
Eltje smiled as she answered, Perhaps he will finish third; but it would surprise me greatly to see him do so.
This pretty girl, with the Dutch name, had such faith in her friend Rod, that she did not believe he would ever be third, or even second, where he had once made up his mind to be first.
Failing to catch her real meaning, Snyder replied: Of course he may not do as well as that; but he ought to. As captain of the club he ought to sustain the honor of his position, you know. If he doesnt feel able to take at least third place in a five-starter race, he should either resign, or keep out of the racing field altogether. Now I must leave you; for I see I am wanted. Youll wish me good luck, wont you?
Yes, answered Eltje mischievously, I wish you all the luck you deserve.
Forced to be content with this answer, but wondering if there was any hidden meaning in it, Snyder left the grand stand, and strolled leisurely around to the dressing-room, lighting a cigarette as he went.
Hurry up! shouted Rod, who was the soul of punctuality and was particularly anxious that all the events of this, his first race meeting, should be started on time. Hurry up. Our race will be called in five minutes, and youve barely time to dress for it.
Wheres my wheel? asked Snyder, glancing over the dozen or more machines stacked at one side of the room, but without seeing his own.
I havent seen it, answered Rod, but I supposed you had left it in some safe place.
So I did. I left it in the club house, where there would be no chance of anybody tampering with it; for Ive 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 didnt 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, Ill 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 Rods bicycle fluttered the bit of blue ribbon that Dan had been sent to the young captains 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.