"Wasn't it?" said the Saturnian; "and my! how mad he got when I interfered--asked whether this was a free country and if anybody had rights, and all sorts of stuff like that. Now there's another rule we have, and that is that coasting backward cannot be permitted. We used to allow that until a man from Jupiter ran slap bang into another man who lived at the extreme end of the handle of the Great Dipper, who was coasting backward from the other direction. They came together so hard that we couldn't get 'em apart, and we have had to keep 'em here ever since. They can't be separated, and the Dipper man won't go to Jupiter, and the Jupiter man won't go to Dipperville--consequently they stay here. They're a fearful nuisance, and it all came from coasting backward." "It's a very good rule," said Jimmieboy, "but in our world I don't think we'd need a rule like that, because, while our bicycle riders do lots of queer things, I don't think they'd do that." "I hope not," said the Saturnian, "because there isn't any use in it, any more than in that other trick our visiting bicyclists try to play here. They take those bicycles built for two, you know, and have what they call tugs of war with 'em. One fellow takes the hind wheel and the other the front wheel, and each begins to work for all he is worth to pull the other along. We had to stop that, too, because the last time they did it the men were so strong that the bar was pulled apart and both tuggers went flying off on one wheel so fast that they have never managed to get back--not that we want them back, but that we don't want people to set bicycling down as a dangerous sport. It means so much to us. We get all our money from our big ring here; bicyclists come from all parts of the universe to ride around it, and as they pay for the privilege why we get millions of dollars a year, which is divided up among the people. Consequence is, nobody has to do any work and we are all happy. You can see for yourself that it would be very bad for us if people gave it up as dangerous." "Very true," said Bikey, "and now we know the rules I suppose we can go ahead." "Yes," said the policeman, "only you must go to the Captain's office and get a permit. It'll cost you $2,000 for one season." "Two thousand dollars?" echoed Jimmieboy, aghast. "That's what I said," said the policeman. "But," said Jimmieboy, ruefully, "I haven't got more than five cents with me." "Then," said the policeman, "you can get a permit for five cents' worth--that's one-forty thousandth part of a season." "And how long is a season?" asked Jimmieboy. "Forty thousand years," said the policeman. "You can ride a year for five cents." Bikey laughed. "That'll be long enough," he said. "And where can I find the Captain?" "I'm him," said the Saturnian. "Give me the five cents and it will be all right."