sequence of my recent experiences, I thought it
time to get on my way.

'Don't be in a hurry,' he said. 'I think you and I ought to have a
little talk.'

'I want to get along,' I retorted.

'Where to?'

'To get some breakfast,' I replied.

'Hungry, eh?' he asked.

'A little.'

With that he looked at his watch; then, saying that it was nearly
twelve, he took from a side pocket of his jacket a tin case, packed with
tempting-looking sandwiches.

'Just put yourself outside those,' he said, handing me the tin.

'But--but,' I suggested with an effort, 'won't you want them?'

'I am all right,' he said, with a laugh; 'you needn't bother about me.
Sit down and start.'

Needing no further persuasion, I sat down on the grass by the way-side,
and steadily emptied the sandwich tin. Before this was accomplished,
however, he produced a flask, pouring some of its contents into a small
cup which fitted on to one end. It seemed to put fresh life into me.

'Feel better?' he inquired, as he replaced the flask in his pocket.

'Ever so much,' I answered.

'Well, then, suppose you tell me all about yourself.'

'I would much rather not,' I insisted.

'Why?'

'Because you--you might try to take me back!'

'Think for a moment, and don't be stupid,' he said. 'How can I take you
back if you don't tell me where you have come from? Besides, you would
be as much as I could carry with my bike, you know. So fire away,' he
added, and I sat on the grass and once more told my story from the
beginning, except that this time I omitted to mention Mr. Turton's name
or address.

'When you reach London,' he asked after I had become silent, 'what are
you going to do?'

'Other fellows have been able to do things,' I answered.

'But, you know,' he said, with a kind sort of smile, 'you have not even
got a cat.'

'I believe I shall be all right if only I get there,' I persisted. 'If
you would not mind telling me the way to the main road.'

'Well,' he said, 'all roads lead to London.'

'Any one will do for me,' I answered, and upon that he wheeled his
machine into the middle of the road.

'Ever ridden on a step?' he asked.

'Rather!'

'Then get up behind me, only don't upset my baggage.'

He mounted as he spoke, and in a second I was standing on the step
behind him. In spite of the circumstances, I thoroughly enjoyed that
eight miles ride, and felt sincerely sorry when it ended. Now we coasted
down a hill, now we both dismounted