“Confound the doctor! June, go find Hal Darrell and tell him to come here right away. I have something to say to that fellow, and I’m going to say it while it is hot on my mind.” “Keep still while I am gone,” she said. “Will you?” He promised, and she left the room to look for Darrell. CHAPTER IV—JUNE’S PROMISE The hilarious fellows were repeating “The Red and Black” when Dick passed down-stairs in search of the boy whose bicycle had been smashed. Dick had been thinking of that lad. The boy had not raised a fuss over the destruction of his wheel, and Merriwell admired him for his behavior. The boy was sitting on the hotel steps, mournfully trying to bend the twisted spokes back into shape. A number of his friends had gathered around him. “It’s tough on you, Sammy,” said one of the group. “No fellow has a right to grab a chap’s wheel and smash it like that.” “He didn’t mean to do it,” said Sammy. “That don’t make no difference! He hadn’t any right to take it at all.” “He did it to chase the runaway and save the girl.” “Well, you didn’t start the runaway. You wasn’t to blame for it. Somebody oughter to pay you for your wheel.” “The fellow whose sister he saved said he’d give anybody a hundred dollars to stop the horse. Why didn’t he keep his word? Then Dick Merriwell could pay me for my bike and have fifty dollars left.” Dick was deeply moved by this, and he came down the steps at once. The boys looked a bit startled as they saw him and realized he might have heard some of their talk. “So you won your bicycle in a race at a fair, Sammy?” he said. “Yes,” said the boy, and there was a little choke in his throat. “It was the best wheel I ever had. Judge Merritt put it up as a prize for the best rider.” “An’ he thought his son was going to git it,” put in a little fellow; “but Sammy he jest beat Arthur Merritt out at the finish an’ got the wheel, though Art was the maddest feller you ever saw.” “Well, it’s a shame to have your wheel smashed after you worked so hard for it,” said Dick. “What did you do with your other wheel—the one you had before you got this one?” “I sold it. It wasn’t much good, anyhow, and it only cost me nine dollars second-hand. But I earned all the money to buy it myself.” “Did you race on your old wheel at the fair?” “Oh, no! I never could have won on that. Fred Thurston let me have his wheel to race on.” “Well, this bike is ruined, that’s plain,” said Dick, as he examined the ill-fated bicycle. “You’ll never ride it again.” “I guess that’s right,” nodded Sammy sadly. “But you stopped the horse and saved the girl.” Not a whimper, not a sign of anger, only regret for the loss of the wheel and satisfaction because Dick had been able to save June. Young Merriwell realized that the boy was something of a hero, with a most remarkable disposition. “Don’t worry, Sammy,” he said, smiling reassuringly. “You shall have another wheel, and I will buy it for you—a wheel just as good as this one.”