The door of the shed was pushed open, and Bess Thornton, standing on a stool, could be seen climbing into the saddle of what resembled closely a pair of wagon wheels connected by a curving bar of iron. She steadied herself for a moment, holding to the side of the doorway; then pushed herself away from it, came down the plank incline, and thence on to the path leading from the elevation on which the shed stood, at full speed. Her legs, too short for her feet to touch the pedals as they made a complete revolution, stuck out at an angle; but she guided the wheel and rode past Tim Reardon and the colonel, triumphantly. When the wheel stopped, she let it fall and landed on her feet, laughing. "Here it is, Colonel Witham," said she, rolling it back to where he stood. "Let's see you ride it." Colonel Witham, grasping one of the handle-bars, eyed the velocipede almost longingly. "No," he said. "I'm too old and stout now. Guess my riding days are over. But I used to make it go once, I tell you." "Go ahead, get on. You can ride it," urged Tim Reardon. "It won't break." "Oh no, it will hold me, all right," said Colonel Witham. "We didn't have any busted tires in our day. Good iron rim there that'll last for ever." "Just try it a little way," said Bess Thornton. "I never saw anybody ride that had won medals," said Tim Reardon. Colonel Witham's pride was rapidly getting the better of his discretion. "Oh, I can ride it," he said, "only it's--it's kind of hot to try it. Makes me feel sort of like a boy, though, to get hold of the thing." The colonel lifted a fat leg over the backbone and put a ponderous foot on one pedal, while the drops of perspiration began to stand out on his forehead. "Get out of the way," he shouted. "I'll just show you how it goes--hanged if I don't." The colonel had actually gotten under way. Little Tim Reardon doubled up with mirth, and rolled over on the grass. "Looks just like the elephant at the circus," he cried. "Sh-h-h, he'll hear you," whispered Bess Thornton. Colonel Witham was certainly doing himself proud. A new thrill of life went through him. He thought of those races and the medals. It was an unfortunate recollection, for it instilled new ambitions within him. He had ridden up the road a few rods, had made a wide turn and started back; and now, as he neared the hotel once more, his evil genius inspired him to show the two how nicely he could make a shorter turn. He did it a little too quickly; the wheel lurched, and Colonel Witham felt he was falling. He twisted in the saddle, gave another sharp yank upon the handle-bars--and lost control of the wheel. A most unfortunate moment for such a mishap; for now, as the wheel righted, it swerved to one side and, with increased speed, ran upon the board walk that led down to the boat-landing.