She may have fallen
in with some political parade, and is waiting to get across the
street.

Bradley (aside). Well, I like that!

Mrs. Perkins (aside). Why--it's awful!

Yardsley. Or she may possibly have punctured her tire--that would
delay her fifteen or twenty minutes. Don't worry, my dear boy. I
showed her how to fix a punctured tire all right. It's simple
enough--you take the rubber thing they give you and fasten it in that
metal thingumbob, glue it up, poke it in, pull it out, pump her up,
and there you are.

Bradley (scornfully). You told her that, did you?

Yardsley. I did.

Bradley (with a mock sigh of relief). You don't know what a load
you've taken off my mind.

Barlow (looking at his watch). H'm! Thaddeus, it's nine o'clock. I
move we go out and have the lesson. Eh? The moon is just right.

Yardsley. Yes--we can't begin too soon. Wheel all right?

Perkins. Guess so--I'm ready.

Bradley. I'll go out to the corner and see if there's any sign of
Mrs. Bradley. [Exit.

Mrs. Perkins (who has been gazing out of window for some moments). I
do wish Emma would come. I can't understand how women can do these
things. Riding down here all alone at night! It is perfectly
ridiculous!

Yardsley (rolling Perkins's wheel into middle of room). Czar wheel,
eh?

Perkins (meekly). Yes--best going--they tell me.

Barlow. Can't compare with the Alberta. Has a way of going to
pieces like the "one-hoss shay"--eh, Bob?

Yardsley. Exactly--when you least expect it, too--though the Alberta
isn't much better. You get coasting on either of 'em, and half-way
down, bang! the front wheel collapses, hind wheel flies up and hits
you in the neck, handle-bar turns just in time to stab you in the
chest; and there you are, miles from home, a physical, moral, bicycle
wreck. But the Arena wheel is different. In fact, I may say that
the only safe wheel is the Arena. That's the one I ride. However,
at fifty dollars this one isn't extravagant.

Perkins. I paid a hundred.

Yardsley. A wha--a--at?

Perkins. Hundred.

Barlow. Well you are a--a--good fellow. It's a pretty wheel,
anyhow. Eh, Bob?

Yardsley. Simple beauty. Is she pumped up?

Perkins. Beg your pardon?

Yardsley. Pumped up, tires full and tight--ready for action--support
an elephant?

Perkins. Guess so--my--I mean, the agent said it was perfect.

Yardsley. Extra nuts?

Perkins. What?

Yardsley. Extra nuts--n