eans be induced to screw home into their places, was
perforce obliged to rest the machine upon two chairs and wriggle
underneath it, where he reclined upon his back with grimy oil dripping
upon his forehead. Red in the face, he crawled out to breathe at
intervals, and Helen made stern efforts to conceal her mingled alarm
and merriment, when Thomas Savine said:

"Will you take long odds, Thurston, that you never make that invention
of his Satanic Majesty run straight again?"

Mrs. Savine cautioned the operator about sunstroke and apoplexy. When
Thomas Savine caught Helen's eye, both laughed outright, and Geoffrey,
mistaking the reason, felt hurt; he determined to conquer the bicycle
or remain beneath it all night. When at last he succeeded in putting
the various parts together and straightened his aching back, he hoped
that he did not look so disgusted, grimy and savage as he undoubtedly
felt.

"You must really let it alone," said Helen. "The sun is very hot, and
perhaps, you might be more successful after luncheon. I have noticed
that when mending bicycles a rest and refreshment sometimes prove
beneficial."

"That's so!" agreed Thomas Savine. "Young Harry was wont to tackle it
on just those lines. He used up several of my best Cubanos and a
bottle of claret each time, before he had finished; and then I was
never convinced that the thing went any better."

"You must beware of ruining your health," interposed Mrs. Savine.
"Mending bicycles frequently leads to an accumulation of malevolent
humors. Did I interrupt you, Mr. Thurston?"

"I was only going to say that it is nearly finished, and that I should
not like to be vanquished by an affair of this kind," said Geoffrey
with emphasis. "Would it hurt the machine if I stood it upon its head,
Miss Savine?"

"Oh, no, and I am so grateful," Helen answered assuringly, noticing
guiltily that there were oil and red dust, besides many somber smears,
upon the operator's face and jacket, while the skin was missing from
several of his knuckles.

It was done at last, and Geoffrey sighed, while the rest of the party
expressed surprise as well as admiration when the wheels revolved
freely without click or groan. Julius Savine nodded, with more than
casual approval, and Helen was gracious with her thanks.

"You look quite faint," observed Mrs. Savine. "It was the hot sun on
your forehead, and the mental excitement. Such things are often
followed by dangerous conseq