CHAPTER XVII
THEIR UNACCOUNTABLE BEHAVIOR
My orders were explicit.
I was to take a note up to the Bigelow's house on Elm Street, and I was to give the note to Miss Carew. There was no answer. After delivering the note I might do as I pleased, but I must not be late for dinner.
The member of my family who issued these directions was one with whom it paid to keep on good terms. I might have felt grieved about this errand on such a morning, but I had already found that Jimmy Toppan and Ed Mason had departed from their homes on some private mission which did not seem to include me. Bereft of playmates I had spent a lonely half-hour in the side yard, blowing on blades of grass, and raising fiendish shrieks therewith. So my employment on business which would send me far from home was mutually agreeable. I had only one request to make.
"Can I go on my velocipede?"
"Yes; but don't go too fast and get overheated, and don't lose the note."
The prohibition about going too fast was superfluous. The velocipede had tires which were but bands of iron. Progress upon it, over the uneven brick sidewalks, was slow and not altogether painless. The pedals (they looked like large spools) were attached at such an angle that a thrilling speed was hard to attain.