In regard to him my mind was made up.  I would forgive him his debt and send him away with my blessing, even if I found no opportunity of rewarding him for his great service to me.

I would go in and speak to Mrs. Chester about it.  Of course it would not be right to do anything without consulting her, and now I could boldly tell her that it would suit me very well to stop at the inn until my wheel could be sent away and repaired.

As I entered the large room the elderly woman came out.  She was plainly in a bad humor.  Mrs. Chester was awaiting me with an anxious countenance, evidently much more troubled about the damage to my bicycle than I was.  I hastened to relieve her mind.

“It does not matter a bit about the damage done by the bear,” I said.  “I should not wonder if that wheel would be a great deal better for a new tire, anyway.  And, as for that doleful Italian, I do not want to be hard on him, even if he has a little money in his pocket.”

But my remarks did not relieve her, while my cheerful and contented tones seemed to add to her anxiety.

“But you cannot travel,” she said, “and there is no place about here where you could get a new tire.”

It was very plain that no one in this house entertained the idea that it would be a good thing for me to rest here quietly until my bicycle could be sent away and repaired.  In fact, my first statement, that I wished to stop but for the night, was accepted with general approval.

I did not deem it necessary to refer to the man’s offer, to send me and my machine to Waterton in a wagon, and I was just on the point of boldly announcing that I was in no hurry whatever to get on, and that it would suit me very well to wait here for a few days, when the boy burst into the room, one end of his little neck-tie flying behind him.

“The Dago’s put!” he shouted.  “He’s put off and gone!”

We looked at him in amazement.

“Gone!” I exclaimed.  “Shall I go after him?  Has he paid his bill?”

“No, you needn’t do that,” said the boy.  “He cut across the fields like a chipmunk—­skipped right over the fences!  You’d never ketch him, and you needn’t try!  He’s off for the station.  I’ll tell you all about it,” said the boy, turning to his mistress, who had been too much startled to ask any questions.  “When he went into the house”—­jerking his head in my direction—­“I was left alone with the Dago, and he begun to talk to me.  He asked me a lot of things.  He rattled on so I couldn’t understand half he said.  He wanted to know how much a tire cost; he wanted to know how much his bill would be, and if he’d have to pay for the little post that was broke.