Bruce groaned.
“More work—and just as I was getting so comfortably settled in that car seat, too.”
“Oh, brace up, Bruce!” cried Frank, cheerfully. “You’ve done well ever since we left New York. Don’t collapse on the last lap.”
“All right; I’ll brace up,” sighed the big fellow, and followed the others.
Toots had seen to it that the bicycles were polished to the last degree, so that they shone like silver in the bright sunshine.
For over an hour the crowd spun along over the road.
Then unlucky Hans ran into a hollow, throwing himself over the handle bars and twisting one of the pedals of his machine.
Luckily, there was a repair shop not very far off, and to this they took their way, where a machinist went to work on the wheel without delay.
While the others were waiting for Hans’ bicycle to be mended, Diamond called Frank to one side.
“Come down to the river with me,” he said. “I want to show you a particularly fine view.”