over their work and made a
gallant but
unsuccessful attempt to
take the rise. The machine was
evidently too highly geared for
hill climbing, and
presently the rearmost rider rose on his
saddle and hopped off, leaving his
companion to any fate he found
proper. The
foremost rider was a man
unused to such machines and
apparently undecided how to
dismount. He wabbled a few yards up
the hill with a long tail of machine wabbling behind him.
Finally, he made an attempt to jump off as one does off a single
bicycle, hit his boot against the
backbone, and collapsed
heavily, falling on his shoulder.
She stood up. "Dear me!" she said. "I hope he isn't hurt."
The second rider went to the
assistance of the fallen man.
Hoopdriver stood up, too. The lank, shaky machine was lifted up
and wheeled out of the way, and then the fallen rider, being
assisted, got up slowly and stood rubbing his arm. No serious
injury seemed to be done to the man, and the couple
presentlyturned their attention to the machine by the
roadside. They were
not in cycling clothes Hoopdriver observed. One wore the
grotesque
raiment for which the Cockney discovery of the game of
golf seems
indirectly blamable. Even at this distance the
flopping flatness of his cap, the bright brown leather at the top
of his
calves, and the chequering of his stockings were
perceptible. The other, the rear rider, was a
slender little man
in grey.
"Amatoors," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
Jessie stood staring, and a veil of thought dropped over her
eyes. She no longer regarded the two men who were now tinkering
at the machine down below there.
"How much have you?" she said.
He
thrust his right hand into his pocket and produced six coins,
counted them with his left index finger, and held them out to
her. "Thirteen four half," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "Every penny."
"I have half a sovereign," she said. "Our bill
wherever we
stop--" The hiatus was more
eloquent than many words.
"I never thought of money coming in to stop us like this," said
Jessie.
"It's a juiced nuisance."
"Money," said Jessie. "Is it possible--Surely! Conventionality!
May only people of means--Live their own Lives? I never thought
..."
Pause.
"Here's some more cyclists coming," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
The two men were both busy with their
bicycle still, but now from
among the trees emerged the
massive bulk of a 'Marlborough Club'
tandem,
ridden by a
slender woman in grey and a burly man in ?
Norfolk
jacket. Following close upon this came lank black figure
in a piebald straw hat, riding a tricycle of antiquated pattern
with two large wheels in front. The man in grey remained bowed
over the
bicycle, with his
stomach resting on the
saddle, but his
companion stood up and addressed some remark to the tricycle
riders. Then it seemed as if he
pointed up hill to where Mr.
Hoopdriver and his
companion stood side by side. A still odder
thing followed; the lady in grey took out her handkerchief,
appeared to wave it for a moment, and then at a hasty
motion from
her
companion the white signal vanished.
"Surely," said Jessie, peering under her hand. "It's never--"
The tandem tricycle began to
ascend the hill, quartering
elaborately from side to side to ease the
ascent. It was evident,
from his heaving shoulders and
depressed head, that the burly
gentleman was exerting himself. The
clerical person on the
tricycle assumed the shape of a note of interrogation. Then on
the heels of this
procession came a dogcart
driven by a man in a
billycock hat and containing a lady in dark green.
"Looks like some sort of excursion," said Hoopdriver.
Jessie did not answer. She was still peering under her hand.
"Surely," she said.
The clergyman's efforts were becoming convulsive. With a curious
jerking
motion, the tricycle he rode twisted round upon itself,
and he
partlydismounted and
partly fell off. He turned his
machine up hill again immediately and began to wheel it. Then the
burly gentleman
dismounted, and with a courtly attentiveness
assisted the lady in grey to
alight. There was some little
difference of opinion as to
assistance, she so clearly wished to
help push. Finally she gave in, and the burly gentleman began
impelling the machine up hill by his own unaided strength. His
face made a dot of
brilliant colour among the greys and greens at
the foot of the hill. The tandem
bicycle was now, it seems,
repaired, and this joined the tail of the
procession, its riders
walking behind the dogcart, from which the lady in green and the
driver had now descended.
"Mr. Hoopdriver," said Jessie. "Those people--I'm almost sure--"
"Lord!" said Mr. Hoopdriver,
reading the rest in her face, and he
turned to pick up his machine at once. Then he dropped it and
assisted her to mount.
At the sight of Jessie mounting against the sky line the people
coming up the hill suddenly became excited and ended Jessie's
doubts at once. Two handkerchiefs waved, and some one shouted.
The riders of the tandem
bicycle began to run it up hill, past
the other vehicles. But our young people did not wait for further
developments of the
pursuit. In another moment they were out of
sight, riding hard down a steady
incline towards Stoney Cross.
Before they had dropped among the trees out of sight of the hill
brow, Jessie looked back and saw the tandem rising over the
crest, with its rear rider just tumbling into the
saddle.
"They're coming," she said, and bent her head over her handles in
true
professional style.
They whirled down into the
valley, over a white
bridge, and saw
ahead of them a number of
shaggy little ponies frisking in the
roadway. Involuntarily they slackened. "Shoo!" said Mr.
Hoopdriver, and the ponies kicked up their heels derisively. At
that Mr. Hoopdriver lost his
temper and charged at them, narrowly
missed one, and sent them jumping the ditch into the bracken
under the trees, leaving the way clear for Jessie.
Then the road rose quietly but persistently; the treadles grew
heavy, and Mr. Hoopdriver's
breath sounded like a saw. The tandem
appeared, making
frightful exertions, at the foot, while the
chase was still climbing. Then, thank Heaven! a crest and a
stretch of up and down road, whose only
disadvantage was its
pitiless
exposure to the afternoon sun. The tandem apparently
dismounted at the hill, and did not appear against the hot blue
sky until they were already near some trees and a good mile away.
"We're gaining," said Mr. Hoopdriver, with a little Niagara of
perspiration dropping from brow to cheek. "That hill--"
But that was their only gleam of success. They were both nearly
spent. Hoopdriver, indeed, was quite spent, and only a feeling of
shame prolonged the liquidation of his
bankrupt physique. From
that point the tandem grained upon them
steadily. At the Rufus
Stone, it was scarcely a hundred yards behind. Then one desperate
spurt, and they found themselves upon a steady downhill stretch
among thick pine woods. Downhill nothing can beat a highly geared
tandem
bicycle. Automatically Mr. Hoopdriver put up his feet, and
Jessie slackened her pace. In another moment they heard the swish
of the fat pneumatics behind them, and the tandem passed
Hoopdriver and drew
alongside Jessie. Hoopdriver felt a mad
impulse to
collide with this
abominable machine as it passed him.
His only
consolation was to notice that its riders, riding
violently, were quite as dishevelled as himself and smothered in
sandy white dust.
Abruptly Jessie stopped and
dismounted, and the tandem riders