CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE RACE--GOOD-BY TO THE BICYCLISTS.

The great race track was literally jammed with people.

And why not? Were not the very best riders in the country to compete there for supremacy?

Joe felt it was the event of his life.

“It is do or die!” he said to himself, almost desperately.

He wanted to win. It meant much to him--money, fame, and better business for the family; for if he won Joe was to become the representative of one of the largest wheel concerns in the State.

For two weeks he had been preparing for a race that was to last less than five minutes.

It was a good deal of preparation for such a short event.

The first race on the programme was that in which Wilbur Rand was one of the starters. Despite the fact that he had fine riders against him, Rand came in second, winning several hundred dollars.

Then came half a dozen other events.

“Joe! it’s time to go on!”

Dick had called him.

Was everything in apple-pie order?

Paul Johnson made a most minute examination.

“All O. K. as far as I can see, Joe,” he said. “And now, good luck to you. Show them your best.”

Out into the ring rode our hero.

Ten thousand voices greeted him, for a boy is always a favorite.

“The best-hearted rider that ever lived,” said many.

Each man rode around the track several times.

Then the starter called them together.

“Gentlemen, are you all ready?”

A silence so intense that one might have heard a pin drop followed.

Crack!

At the sound of the pistol seven bicyclists bent to their pedals and shot ahead like so many arrows from a single bow.

“A beautiful start!”

“Perfect! The best yet!”

“It’s going to be the closest race on the programme.”

“See them go, boys!”

And go they did, flashing by the spectators like an express train.

The first half-mile was passed.

Time for the leader, one minute two seconds.

Joe was the fourth man; time, one minute three seconds.

On and on they went.

A mile is covered.

Time for the leader, two minutes ten seconds.

Joe is now third; time, two minutes nineteen seconds.

On and on they flash, making each turn at breakneck speed.

The crowd goes frantic.

A mile and a half has been covered.

Time for the leader, three minutes thirty-one seconds--the terrific pace is telling.

But Joe is striving manfully for second place. Time for second and third men, three minutes thirty-four seconds.

And now the last half is on.

See them go! It is the great struggle of the giants.

Joe is riding as he never rode before.

But now what is he up to?

The crowd hold their breaths and then break out into a perfect roar.

He has not yet reached his limit.

He is spurting, faster than ever.

He fairly runs away from the second man.

Now he is crawling up behind the leader.

In vain the rider tries to shake him off.

Joe knows exactly what he is doing.

He keeps behind the leader until the very last stretch is reached.

And then?

Can that really be our hero who is bending down over the handle bar, his feet twinkling so rapidly that one can scarce see them?

Joe has let himself out to the full limit.

A wild, daring, marvelous rush, the like of which had never before been witnessed, and the leader is passed, and Joe comes over the tape the winner by three yards!

Time, four minutes forty-seven seconds!

The record has been completely smashed, and Joe is the champion two-mile bicycle rider of the country.

He goes on half a lap before he stops. Then, amid the applause of the immense crowd, he wheels around the track and into the outstretched arms of Paul, his father, and Dick Burns.

A hundred hands are thrust out to shake his own, but he is hurried to his dressing-room, there to be rubbed down and to receive medical attention if it be necessary.

“He’s the boy!” cries Charley Osborne.

“That’s right,” says Sam Anderson. “They can’t beat our Joe.”

“The nicest rider on the track,” is what Carl and Larry add.

Carrie Burns says but little, but the bright smile she gives Joe speaks volumes.

That evening our hero is dined and toasted, and on the following day the purse of five hundred dollars in gold is presented to him at a great public banquet.

Carrie Burns is there, as well as Joe’s relatives and friends, and Joe is the happiest young man on the face of the globe.

And here let us leave him--in the midst of his successes. He is settled down now, having married Carrie Burns, the sweetheart of his boyhood days. He is interested in a large bicycle manufacturing company and is rapidly growing rich. Let us wish him and all who surround him well.

THE END.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.