Harper's Round Table, May 19, 1896

Copyright, 1896, by Harper & Brothers. All Rights Reserved.

It was the critical moment in the famous sham battle of Easter Monday. The bicycle corps was a mile and a half away, and the signal post had been captured by the enemy. Unless the corps could be brought into the action the day was lost, and the wood road running back of the Cardinal's Nob offered the only possible means of communication. But could the message be conveyed in time? Colonel Howard turned to his son Jack, who stood anxious and silent at the front handle-bars of the Arrow, a modern racing quad, geared to 120, and stripped down to the enamel. The inspection seemed to satisfy him, and hastily scribbling a few lines on a page torn from his note-book, he handed the order to his son.
Get this through if you possibly can, he said, briefly, and turned again to his field-glasses.
A moment later and Jack and his crew were carrying the Arrow down the steep sides of the Nob to the wood road that ran below. The road was in splendid condition, hard and smooth as a racing-track, and the boys were all picked riders, and bound to hold on to their grips until the tires began to smoke.
It will be a scorch, fellows, said Jack, as he swung himself into his saddle; but let her run off easily until we can get to pedalling all together. Now, then, hit her up!
The Arrow jumped forward like a hare as the long chain tightened and the riders bent over to their work. It took Jem Smith, No. 2, a moment longer to find his left pedal, and then the eight legs began to go up and down with the mechanical regularity of so many piston-rods. Once fairly into the long rhythmical swing, every ounce of power told, and the tense spokes hummed merrily as the speed increased and the road-bed slipped away beneath the rapidly revolving wheels. Jack Howard had his cap drawn well down over his eyes, and his hands were tightly clinched on the front handle-bars. So long as the way was smooth and the crew were pumping in strict time the Arrow steered with the certainty and quickness of a racing sloop; but every now and then a shallow rut or a half-hidden stone would cause the long machine to swerve like a flying horse, and it would take all of Jack's strength, even with the assistance of No. 2, whose handle-bars were coupled to the steering head, to keep the Arrow steady on her course. Above all, it was necessary that every rider should pay strict attention to the business in hand, or rather under foot. Uneven pedalling meant lost power and hard steering, while a slipped pedal might result in an ugly fall and a general smash-up.