His Bicycle Built for Two

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVII, Issue 24, 15 December 1906, Page 32

His Bicycle Built for Two

By

JOHN WINTER

<4 cl ting even with a skintlint on a distinctly novel plan.

FROM Itere to M'anen? Twelve mites. Keep to your left all the way. What sort of a road? I.ook at them hills! ” and Hiram Dean’s long arm directed his interrogator’s attention to the rugged, jagged declivities o£ the I’eneguasset ▼alley. “Switzerland; good view; mountainclimbing; clear air, lots of it,” jerked out the nervous little man who was asking the way. “Business in Boston; important engagement; devil to pay, not there in time.” “Livery stable?” he added. Hiram looked the contempt he felt for one so ignorant. "' No, and you can’t get wings here either; I guess you’ve got to hoof it. Yer train leaves Warren in two hours, but of course you can't catch it. They’s another train goes to-morrow, at the same time; you can catch that if yon ■ hurry.” " Try a farmer with good horses; where’s a farmer?” .“Oh, they’re scattered along the road; but say, don’t you try Silas Crumb, for he won’t do nothin' for you. He’s the meanest cuss in the hid section. Forecloses every mortgage he lays his hands on, turns out tenants and won’t be stood oil one jiffy, durn him! He’s well lived now, and he'd ought to be, if grabbin' laud'll do it. “Last year the widder Peasley’s son took sick in the. Klondyke, and lied to be nussed and doctored there for months. Old Peasley hadn’t left Jane a cent and, to git the money for Tom. the widow giv Silas Crumb a mortgage on her farm. Tom died, and when the mortgage come due. the widder could raise only five hundred out of the six. (The Lord only know how she done that, but she was a Pierce 'fore she married Sam Peasley, and the Pierces arc al! grit). “ But gosh, it wasn't no use : Silas druv over in bis rig, foreclosed onto her. and turned her out onto the rnd, said it was hard times fer him and told her she had three years' redemption and not io forget the interest. She hired out; hut a woman whose heart's broke ain’t. much help, and she got only her hoard and keep. '• She died last February, ami fiilas has the farm.” “ Yes, I see; forecloses on widows; large heart, general favourite; ought to lie shot,” soliloquised Baker. “Well, must be going; find a farmer: make train: good-by,” and lie hurried down the road. "Het horse, or find some other way. Something’s got to get me to that train. Twelve miles to the left. Do it some way," he. said to himself. Tito noonday sun was streaming down ill its August blaze; even the chipmunks were quiet and nature herself seemed to own up that it was “ hot as blazes. ' This is what Baker told the signboard, ns lie unbuttoned his vest. He struck out. boldly, however, and ball an hour’s walking brought him to a big. comfortable-looking farmhouse. "Red barn and old dog to match,’ mysed Baker as he lifted the knocker. “Raise a horse; gel that train.” A heavy step crushed the gravel on the path which led to the barn, and Baker looked up into the face of a gaunt giant of a man. whose- hard, crafty, old eyes glared grimly from lieiieatii his shaggy brows: a dog growled from behind him, ami was kicked into sullen submission by his master's hobnailed boot. “I'm Silas Crumb." said he suddenly. “What do you want?” “General favorite," said Baker to himself. and then, as his eyes passed from Silas to another part of the yard, an idea came quickly into the small, round, closely cropped head of Moses Baker. “Hear you have bicycle for sale, tanfem, little out of date, still good. Want J tie, Mrs. Baker and L‘

Silas Crumb unbent at once, as. looking at the prospective purchaser he saw a chance to dispose of one thing from which he had failed to wrench full value for eost. He had bought the bicycle several years ago, had never been able to inatte use of it. and had stored it every winter and exhibited it every summer without having, as yet, succeeded in selling it. Constant overhaulings bad put him to an expense which had aroused still further hatred of this “'white elephant.” It was now at its old place of exhibition, leaning against an apple-tree in tlie front yard, wearing the sign: “For Sale, Cheap for Cash.” Crumb boiled anew each time he saw it, and realised the generally out-of-date appearance of this derelict, which seemed to mock and defy him. But here was a purchaser! Silas concealed his joy as well as lie could, but human nature will out, and he fairly skipped up the path to the tree under which his enemy was standing. As he “skipped,” he fixed his figure at sixty dollars; six years ago this incubus had cost him fifty. This little Air. Baker had, to Crumb, the look of one whom money might be made almost at will. Baker’s face had assumed a simple, guileless, almost infantile expression; his eyes looked sympathetically into the sharp gray ones of Silas Crumb. And Silas was deceived. Indeed this simplicity had deceived wiser men than he. Throughout the State in which Baker practised, this look and manner were well known; it- was only .when making an extra effort that he assumed it. His brother lawyers knew that look and, when they saw it coming into Bakers face, they kept their eyes and ears open with particular care. “Heft it," said Crumb, wheeling out the bicycle. “Seems strongly made. Its heavy, of course, but it runs as easy as you please. Why, you and Mrs. Baker kin ride this 'yer bicycle all day. and not know you'd stepped off your verandy." “Been used recently? May be rusty inside; better try it if you are willing,” said Baker apologetically. Now Crumb knew what it would mean to push that two-seated ton of old iron on such a day, and he demurred. "Wait until my boy comes hum: he'll he here in half an hour; come up on me verandy and set in me shade.” vie started towards the house, but the little man said petulantly, “Want to try it now," and turned up his trousers preparatory to starting. “Well, if you are bound to do it. come on,” and Silas, having oiled the heavy chain, held the relie for his companion to mount to the front seat. But Baker objected. “I want Mrs. Baker to sit in front; fond of seeing where she is going. J 11 sit behind,” and up he climbed. "I am afraid this is one on you. Silas,” reflected Baker, as he settled himself comfortably on the seat. “One on you.” Down the dusty road tney went, turning to the left in response to Baker's gentle suggestion that it “looked pretty down there.” For an hour little was said; Silas, I>eiit upon demonstrating the absolute ease with which his machine ran, strained every muscle to maintain the speed and Baker, with his feet long since lifted clear of the pedals, coasted blithely along, praising their rapid progress and fanning himself with his Panama hat. “Cooler now’," he remarked. On they went, toiling up the hills on fool and remounting at the top; the dust settled thickly up riders and wheel; the sweat poured down the face of Silas Crumb, but sixty dollars was not every day thus easily placed within his

reach, and he bent even harder to his task.

‘•.1'11 stick him good for this,” he assured himself.

"I told ye it run easy.” he .said aloud as they rounded a bend and passed out upon a village street." “Twelve miles in an hour and a half ain't laid, is it? We'll get off here amt rest a spell.” “Yes,” assented Baker, “we’ll get off here.”

They leaned the wheel against a tree and Crumb mopped his crimson face with his sleeve. 2. train was just about to pull out of the station close by.

“Hi." shouted Silas, “what are ye— —” But Bilker stepped easily on board; he took a black pipe from his pocket, and produced a tolmceo pouch. “t had to catch this train, you see,” he called back pleasantly. “Tried to get a horse, but none to be had, and so I let you bring me down on your aged machine. That’s why I asked you to turn to the left, as we rode out of your yard. .Sorry to have bothered you, you know, but no other way of getting the train. You didn’t understand before, did you? You thought I wanted to buy your old bicycle. No, Silas. The train was now moving more rapidly, and the last words came faintly but clearly: "Fine, country, but hilly for wheeling.” He bowed low to Silas, and the train and Moses Baker had passed down the track.

Silas Crumb's journey back to his farm was one he long remembered. It was dark when ho trundled his enemy into the yard and let it fall rattling upon the ground.

“And I thought he wanted to BUY it. Ihe durned cuss,” he said aloud, and then, turning in sudden wrath toward the bicycle: “And durn you. too.”