ople on
the board walk all headed in the same direction.

"Say, this is going to be a big day all right," said Ray Martin, as he
noted the enthusiasm that prevailed.

"Right-o, just look at the crowd down there at the garages already this
morning," said Bruce.

About each of the low houses were grouped dozens of curiosity seekers.
The scouts soon joined the throng and began to inspect the quarters of
the races. Each garage contained a big sullen looking car about which
was grouped half a dozen mechanics. These men were tinkering here,
tightening a bolt there, or wiping and polishing the great machines as if
they were so many sacred elephants. Mechanical parts, pumps, jacks,
boxes of tools, cans of oil, extra tires and wheels, cushions and
innumerable odds and ends were scattered about each building and
everybody seemed to be keyed up to an extreme nervous pitch. On every
side could be heard remarks about the cars and drivers, their records and
their chances for winning the various events.

The excitement was infectious and before they realized it the scouts were
as thoroughly interested as every one else. They began to talk
automobiles to all with whom they came in contact and soon picked up a
great deal of information about the notables who were to take part in the
races.

"Say, Bruce," said Jiminy Gordon suddenly, "there's Dan Dacy. See him.
That big, tall, light-haired fellow down there. I've seen his picture so
many times that I almost feel as if know him. Come on, we'll go down and
see his machine. That must be his garage--yes, it is. See the sign over
the door. Vix-Benson, it says. That's the car he's going to drive."

The scouts followed Jiminy and Bruce and soon found themselves part of a
very large crowd gathered about the famous driver's headquarters. Dacy
was the favorite American in the race and since he was to operate one of
the best known American cars everybody was enthusiastic to see him carry
off the honors of the event in which he was entered. He was standing by
the door of his garage watching his attendants tinker with his machine,
when the scouts came up. The lads pushed their way through the crowd to
reach the rope railing about the entrance to the garage, and when the
tall racer saw them, he smiled and waved his hand.

"How are you, Scouts?" he said good-naturedly. Then without waiting for
an answer he came over to the rope.

"Where are you fellows from?" he demanded.

"W