It was kind of ironic, he reflected, that he found himself depending so heavily on the slightly younger man. He, Larry, had been the one who taught Smith all he knew about bikes, starting when he'd been a skinny little freckle-faced freshman who'd hang around while his older neighbor polished and repaired his big cycle. Larry had taken a liking to the kid who so obviously adored him, and he'd eventually let him try out the bike. Within months the youngster had far outstripped his teacher in skill and daring, and by the time he graduated from high school, he was proficient enough to be able to make a living by the prize money he won. Even after he'd become a success, however, he'd still looked up to Larry Johnson and had asked his advice about a great many things other than motorcycles. In fact, probably the only decision he'd made entirely on his own was when he met Sandi on a tour in Florida and married her three weeks later.

Larry had been prepared to dislike the new bride even before he met her, simply because he'd have preferred to have handpicked the star motorcycle rider's wife himself if Verne insisted in tying himself down at this inopportune point in his career. Hell, the guy was only twenty-one, for Chrissake, and it wasn't like he was hurting for sex, what with all the "cycle groupies" who liked to hang around the track and had no compunctions at all about putting out for the muscular, personable young stunt rider. Although the Cycle Circus had not yet become a reality at that point, the dream had been germinating in Johnson's brain for some months and most of the profits from his repair shop were earmarked for this project. The last thing he needed was some stupid broad coming along and seducing Verne away from a life of constant touring for fear of the danger involved.