“Dot draining vos make me empty by mine heels up,” he declared. “You could eat me mine own head off alretty, ain’t it?” On one occasion Frank felt like spurting ahead and did so. He was quickly joined by Barney, and the two kept it up until they were well out of sight of the rest of the crowd. “Sure an’ this tickles me to death,” observed Barney. “Me wheel acts loike grased lightning, bedad!” “I love a spurt myself,” replied Frank. “Especially when my wheel is just in proper trim.” They had passed over a slight rise and were now on a down grade where coasting became a double pleasure. There was a wood on either side of the road, with great trees interlocking their branches high overhead. “Listen!” cried Frank, presently. “What is that?” “Sure an’ somebody is gettin’ a drubbin’,” replied Barney. “Come on, we’ll see who it is!” “Confound the beast!” came the cry from a curve ahead. “I will teach the beast how to mind!” And then followed more blows, mingled with a low cry in a female voice. Rounding the curve, Frank and Barney saw a man and a girl who were mounted on handsome horses. The man was belaboring with his riding whip the horse he bestrode, while the animal danced about, refusing to go ahead. At every blow of the whip the horse under the girl started in fear, trembling and snorting. She was obliged to give him much of her attention, but she sharply called to the man: “Don’t whip Firefoot that way, Cousin Stephen! He is not used to your harsh ways, and——” “I’ll make him used to them!” grated the man, his face flushed with anger. “He is a miserable brute anyway!” “But not half such a brute as the man on his back!” muttered Frank. “Roight ye are, me b’y,” agreed Barney. “It’s a foine lookin’ crayther he’s batin’ there.” “And a fine creature it is,” declared Frank; “but it will not take long to spoil it in that way. The fellow doesn’t know how to ride, and he has confused the horse between yanking and whipping it. It’s likely the creature stopped and began to rear and back because it did not know what its rider wanted.” The sight of the approaching bicycles seemed to startle the horse more than ever, and it bolted out of the road with its rider, who was nearly swept from the saddle by an overhanging limb. Again the man fiercely applied the whip. Then he, too, saw the bicyclists, and cried to them in a snarling voice: “What do you mean by riding along here like this? You chaps have no right in the road, anyway! Can’t you see you have frightened this horse?” That brought a touch of warm color to the handsome face of our hero, but his voice was calm and steady as he retorted: “We have as much right on the public highway as you. The trouble with your horse is that you have abused and frightened it. You are not a fit person to ride a horse or have any dealings with one.”