He was
considerably startled therefore when, as he went around a turn in
the highway where the bushes grew thick, right down to the edge of
the road, to see a figure emerge from the underbrush and start
across the path. So quickly did the man appear that Tom was almost
upon him in an instant, and even though the young inventor shut off
the power and applied the brake, the front wheel hit the man and
knocked him down.
"What's the matter with you? What are you trying to do--kill me? Why
don't you ring a bell or blow a horn when you're coming?" The man had
sprung up from the soft sand where the wheel from the motor-cycle had
sent him and faced Tom angrily. Then the rider, who had quickly
dismounted, saw that his victim was a ragged tramp.
"I'm sorry," began Tom. "You came out of the bushes so quickly that
I didn't have a chance to warn you. Did I hurt you much?"
"Well, youse might have. 'Tain't your fault dat youse didn't," and
the tramp began to brush the dirt from his ragged coat. Tom was
instantly struck by a curious fact. The tramp in his second remarks
used language more in keeping with his character, whereas, in his
first surprise and anger, he had talked much as any other person
would. "Youse fellers ain't got no right t' ride dem machines like
lightnin' along de roads," the ragged chap went on, and he still
clung to the use of words and expressions current among his
fraternity.
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