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Here at dusk, Dan, entering hurriedly, collided violently with an outstanding pedal. He hopped agilely about on one foot, clasping his left shin in an affectionate embrace.

“What in hades is that thing I just fell over?” he demanded hotly.

“That? Why, that’s our through ticket to California.”

As I turned up the ineffective gas jet he recognised the graceful lines of the machine.

“Well, I’ll be darned!” he ejaculated. “So you got the blooming thing from Dave, did you? How’d you manage it? And what do you mean, anyway, by a ticket to California? You can’t be aiming to ride that contraption.”

“Don’t you dare to call my beautiful green tandem a contraption. You’ll be glad enough to take your seat on a bicycle built for two as soon as I’ve explained my perfectly scrumptious scheme to you. We’ll fix up a light cooking outfit, tie our blankets on behind, and away we’ll glide out into the west. We’ll work along the way and have lots of interesting experiences; I’ll get rid of this tiresome cough, and after awhile we’ll get home—home, do you hear? Back to California.”