"That's the place," said Bikey. "You don't need a lamp on your wheel when you go out at night there. They've got moonlight to burn. If you'll pedal ahead now as hard as you can we can get there in time for one turn and then come back; and I tell you, my boy, that coming back will be glorious. It will be down grade all the way." "How far off is Saturn?" asked Jimmieboy. "I don't know," returned Bikey, "but it's a long walk from your house. The ring is 18,350 miles from Saturn itself. That's why I think it's a good place for bicycling. Nobody'd take an ice cart or a furniture truck that far just to get in the way of a wheelman, and then as it doesn't go anywhere but just round and round and round, they're not likely to have trolley cars on it. It doesn't pay to run a trolley car nowheres." It all seemed beautifully reasonable, and Jimmieboy's curiosity grew greater and greater as he pedalled along. Up and on they went, passing through huge fleecy masses of clouds, now and again turning to one side to avoid running into strange little bits of stars, so small that they seemed to be nothing but islands in the ocean of the sky, and far too small to be seen on the earth. "We can stop and rest on one of those if you want to, Jimmieboy," said Bikey; "are you tired?" "Not at all," Jimmieboy answered. "Seems to me I could go on this way forever. It's easy as lying down and going to sleep." Bikey chuckled. "What are you laughing at?" said Jimmieboy. "Nothing," said Bikey. "When you said it was easy as sleeping I thought of something--that was all." "Dear me," said Jimmieboy, ruefully. "I am awake, ain't I? This isn't like all the other experiences, is it?" "Not at all," laughed Bikey. "Your other adventures have been quite different. But, I say, we're getting there. I can see five moons ahead already." "I can see six," cried Jimmieboy, quite elated. "Yes, six--and--one more." "You've got nearly the whole set, as the boy said when he came to the other boy's Nicaragua page in the stamp album. There are only eight altogether--only I think your seventh is Saturn itself." "It must be," said Jimmieboy. "It's got a hello around it." "What's that?" asked Bikey. "I forgot," said Jimmieboy. "You never went to Sunday school, and so of course you don't know what a hello is. It's a thing like a gold hoople that angels wear on their heads." "I'll have to get one," said Bikey. "I heard somebody say I was an angel of a bicycle. I don't know what she meant, though. What is an angel?" "It's a--a--good thing with wings," said Jimmieboy. "Humph!" said Bikey, "I'm afraid I'm not one of those. Don't they ever have wheels? I'm a good thing, but I haven't any wings." "I never heard of an angel with wheels," said Jimmieboy. "But I suppose they come. Angels have everything that's worth having." Bikey was silent. The idea of anything having everything that was worth having was too much for him to imagine, for bicycles have very little imagination.