“I feel like flying, Tom,” said Dick Rover. “I never thought wheeling was so grand.”
“Nor I,” came from Sam Rover. “Where shall we go this afternoon?”
It was several weeks later, and the scholars were having a half-holiday. Just six days before, Randolph Rover had surprised his three nephews by sending each a handsome bicycle, and it had taken them hardly any time to learn how to handle the machines.
“Let us take a ride over to Chardale,” said Dick. “I understand that the roads are very good in that direction.”
“All right, I’m willing,” answered Sam, and Tom said the same. Soon the three brothers were on the way, Dick leading and Tom and Sam coming behind, side by side.
It was an ideal day for cycling, cool and clear, and the road they had elected to take was inviting to the last degree, with its broad curves, its beautiful trees, and the mountainous views far to the north and west.
“It’s a wonder we didn’t get wheels before,” observed Dick. “This beats skating or riding a to bits.”
“Just you look out that you don’t take a header!” warned Tom. “This road is all right, but a loose stone might do a pile of damage.”
“I’ve got my eye on the road,” answered his big brother. “For the matter of that, we’ll all have to keep our eyes open.”
To reach Chardale they had to cross several bridges and then descend a long hill, at the foot of which ran the railroad to several towns north and south.
“Come on!” cried Tom, and spurted ahead. With a laugh, Sam tried to catch up to him, but could not. “Now for a coast!” went on the fun-loving Rover, as the hill was gained, and on he started, his wheel flying faster and faster as yard after yard was covered.
“My gracious, Tom! look out or you’ll be smashed up!” yelled Dick. “Put on your brake!”
“Can’t,” came back the answer. “I took it off entirely this morning.”
This reply had scarcely reached Dick’s ears when another sound came to him which disturbed him greatly.
Far away he heard the whistle of a locomotive as it came around the bottom of the hill. Looking in the direction, he saw the puff of smoke over the treetops.
He tried to cry out, but now the road was rather rough, and he had to pay strict attention ’to where he was riding.
“Tom’s going to get into trouble,” gasped Sam, as he ranged up alongside of his elder brother. “The road crosses the railroad tracks just below here.”
“I know it, Sam. I wish we could make him come back.”
As Dick finished he saw a chance to stop and at once dismounted. Then he yelled at the top of his lungs:
“Tom, stop! Stop, or you’ll run into the railroad train!”
Sam also came to a halt and set up a shout. But Tom was now speeding along like the wind and did not hear them.
Nearer and nearer he shot to the railroad tracks. Then the whistle of the locomotive broke upon his ears and he turned pale.