I was beginning to grow nervous, for the right thing to say would not present itself, when Percy strode into the room.  “Good-morning, Mrs. Chester,” said he, and then, turning to me, he declared that he had been waiting in the yard, and began to think I might have forgotten I had come for my wheel.

Of course I rose and she rose, and we followed Percy to the back door of the house.  Outside I saw that the boy of the inn was holding the horse, and that the wheel was already placed in the back part of the wagon.

“I’ve got everything all right, I think,” said Percy.  “I didn’t suppose it was necessary to wait for you, but you’d better take a look at it to see if you think it will travel without rubbing or damaging itself.”

I stepped to the wagon and found that the bicycle was very well placed.  “Now, then,” said Percy, taking the reins and mounting to his seat, “all you’ve got to do is to get up, and we’ll be off.”

I turned to the back door, but she was not there.  “Wait a minute,” said I, and I hurried into the house.  She was not in the hall.  I looked into the large room.  She was not there.  I went into the parlor, and out upon the front porch.  Then I went back into the house to seek some one who might call her.  I was even willing to avail myself of the services of citric acid, for I could not leave that house without speaking to her again.

In a moment Mrs. Chester appeared from some inner room.  I believe she suspected that I had something to say to her which had nothing to do with the bear or the Larramies, for I had been conscious that my speech had been a little rambling, as if I were earnestly thinking of something else than what I was saying, and that she desired I should be taken away without an opportunity to unburden my mind; but now, hearing me tramping about and knowing that I was looking for her, she was obliged to show herself.

As she came forward I noticed that her expression had changed somewhat.  There was nothing merry about her eyes; I think she was slightly pale, and her brows were a little contracted, as if she were doing something she did not want to do.

“I hope you found everything all right,” she said.

I looked at her steadily.  “No,” said I, “everything is not all right.”

A slight shade of anxiety came upon her face.  “I am sorry to hear that,” she said.  “Was your wheel injured more than you thought?”

“Wheel!” I exclaimed.  “I was not thinking of wheels!  I will tell you what is not all right!  It is not right for me to go away without saying to you that I—­”

At this moment there was a strong, shrill whistle from the front of the house.  A most unmistakable sense of relief showed itself upon her face.  She ran to the front door, and called out, “Yes, he is coming.”

[Illustration:  “The scene vividly recurred to my mind”]