62 The N. S. Bicycle.

and to this day that boy does not know what it
was that Gordon thanked him for. Back over the
same road he flew, and ah, so willingly now. Past
many twinkling electric lights, then out of the big
town, and on to the quiet country road again
where the trees looked very tall and black in the
darkness. Gordon was not very old, and he was
afraid to be out on that lonely road alone, but
he kept saying to himself, “I shall soon be at
home.” He passed through many small towns,
then through the long, dark, wooden bridge that
spanned the river Nokowi, which he could hear
rushing and tumbling far beneath, hurrying on to
the sea. And then at last he saw the lights of his
own dear home, twinkling in the distance.

Down into the middle of the town he went, Be
the station, post-office, and shop where he had
bought this terrible machine, and at last he came
to his home. Turning in at the gate, and gather-
ing his little remaining strength, he made a tre-
mendous effort and jumped from the bicycle.

And the bicycle, what do you think it did? It
stopped short, and stood perfectly still, leaning