On nearer view he saw that the object was in reality a tricycle, and that it held beside the rider a pair of crutches which lay in supports lengthwise along one side.  The machine was made to work with the hands instead of the feet, and a bow-shaped piece of steel which fitted around the operator’s knee served as steering apparatus.  The youth who sat motionless on the seat was a rather pale-faced, frail-looking lad of eighteen years, and it needed no second glance to tell Neil that he was crippled from his waist down.  As Neil approached he was pulling the handles to and fro and looking perplexedly at the gear.  The tricycle refused to budge.

“I guess you’ve broken down,” said Neil, approaching.  “Stay where you are and I’ll have a look.”

“Thanks, but you needn’t bother,” said the lad.

But Neil was already on his knees.  The trouble was soon found; the chain had broken and for the present was beyond repair.

“But the wheels will go round, just the same,” said Neil cheerfully.  “Keep your seat and I’ll push you back.  Where do you room?”

“Walton,” was the answer.  “But I don’t like to bother you, Mr. Fletcher.  You see I have my crutches here, and I can get around very well on them.”

“Nonsense, there’s no use in your walking all the way to Walton.  Here, I’ll take the chain off and play horse.  By the way, how’d you know my name?”

“Oh, every one knows you since that kidnaping business,” laughed the other, beginning to forget some of his shyness.  “And besides I’ve heard the coach speak to you at practise.”

“Oh,” said Neil, who was now walking behind the tricycle and pushing it before him, “then you’ve been out to the field, eh?”

“Yes, I like to watch practise.  I go out very nearly every day.”

[Illustration]

“Come to think of it, I believe I’ve seen you there,” said Neil.  “It’s wonderful how you can get around on this machine as you do.  Isn’t it hard work at times?”

“Rather, on grades, you know.  But on smooth roads it goes very easily; besides, I’ve worked it every day almost for so long that I’ve got a pretty good muscle now.  My father had this one made for me only two months ago to use here at Erskine.  The last machine I had was very much heavier and harder to manage.”

“I guess being so light has made it weak,” said Neil, “or it wouldn’t have broken down like this.”

“Oh, I fancy that was more my fault than the tricycle’s,” answered the boy.  As Neil was behind him he did not see the smile that accompanied the words.

“Well, I’ll take you home and then wheel the thing down to the bicycle repair-shop near the depot, eh?”

“Oh, no, indeed,” protested the other.  “I’ll—­I’ll have them send up for it.  I wouldn’t have you go way down there with it for anything.”

“Pshaw! that’s no walk; besides, if you have them send, it will be some time to-morrow afternoon before you get it back.”