How d'ye suppose I'm ever going to lug that heavy thing back up
to the road now?" demanded Ferd, spitefully.
"Oh! I don't mind giving you a hand at that. I hate to see such a fine
machine lying in the mud like a mired cow," declared Dick, cheerfully.
Ferd looked at him dubiously, as though his spirit urged him to decline
the generous offer of assistance made by one he chose to regard as his
enemy; but the road was lonely, no one might come along for some time to
help him, and the motor-cycle was too heavy for him to drag out of the
hole unassisted.
So he swallowed his pride, and grudgingly allowed Dick to take hold on
one side while he dragged at the other, and in this fashion the machine
was speedily placed once more on dry land.
Of course it was pretty well soiled, and did not look very much like the
spick-and-span new wheel that a few days back had been the envy of every
boy in Riverview.
Dick, who could not bear to see anything abused, immediately snatched up
a handful of grass from the side of the road under the fence, and
commenced to wipe the worst of the muck away.
"Never mind bothering yourself about that; I guess I can attend to it
when I get home. It wouldn't have happened anyway if I hadn't met you on
the road," said Ferd, with a return of his bitterness.
Dick looked at him queerly, and then threw down the rough wiper he had
been using.
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