"Well, I could do it if I liked. I've walked eighteen, and wasn't half so tired as you were. Any one can get over the ground on a bicycle, but it takes strength and courage to keep it up on foot." "Better try it." "I will, some day." "Don't crow too loud, my little rooster; you are not cock of the walk yet." "If I was, I wouldn't hit a fellow when he's down;" and fearing he should kick over the tall bicycle that stood so temptingly near him, Hugh walked away, trying to whistle, though his lips were more inclined to tremble than to pucker. "Just bring my lunch, will you? Auntie is putting it up; I must be off," called Sid, so used to giving orders that he did so even at this unpropitious moment. "Get it yourself. I'm not going to slave for you any longer, old tyrant," growled Hugh; for the trodden worm turned at last, as worms will. This was open revolt, and Sid felt that things were in a bad way, but would not stop to mend them then. "Whew! here's a tempest in a teapot. Well, it is too bad; but I can't help it now. I'll make it all right to-morrow, and bring him round with a nice account of the fun. Hullo, Bemis! going to town?" he called, as a neighbor came spinning noiselessly by. "Part way, and take the cars at Lawton. It's hard riding over the hills, and a bother to steer a wheel through the streets. Come on, if you're ready." "All right;" and springing up, Sid was off, forgetting all about the lunch. Hugh, dodging behind the lilac-bushes, heard what passed, and the moment they were gone ran to the gate to watch them out of sight with longing eyes, then turned away, listlessly wondering how he should spend the holiday his brother was going to enjoy so much. At that moment Aunt Ruth hurried to the door, waving the leathern pouch well stored with cake and sandwiches, cold coffee and pie. "Sid's forgotten his bag. Run, call, stop him!" she cried, trotting down the walk with her cap-strings waving wildly in the fresh October wind. For an instant Hugh hesitated, thinking sullenly, "Serves him right. I won't run after him;" then his kind heart got the better of his bad humor, and catching up the bag he raced down the road at his best pace, eager to heap coals of fire on Sid's proud head,--to say nothing of his own desire to see more of the riders. "They will have to go slowly up the long hill, and I'll catch them then," he thought as he tore over the ground, for he was a good runner and prided himself on his strong legs. Unfortunately for his amiable intentions, the boys had taken a short cut to avoid the hill, and were out of sight down a lane where Hugh never dreamed they would dare to go, so mounted. "Well, they have done well to get over the hill at this rate. Guess they won't keep it up long," panted Hugh, stopping short when he saw no signs of the riders.