The stranger paused, and Abe observed him with an admiring glance.
“How did you escape?” asked Long Jim.
“Why, sir, owing to the gratitude of that serpent. The cold bath revived him, and when he realised the situation, he swam ashore and drew me out with the machine. Yes, gentlemen, I assure you that was the case. Then he unwound his tail and moved his wounded head, while regarding me with a bright, but rather disconcerting, stare. I realised in a flash what he was waiting for, and I rang the bell for five minutes, when he slowly moved off into the wood, looking very sick from the severe bashing. I do not ask you to believe the story, gentlemen, but I am convinced that if the next time you come down Blaauw Krantz on a bicycle you ring your bell you will credit me with keeping to the exact facts.”
“That beats your yarns, Abe Pike,” said Si Amos, who had often been the butt of the old man; “beats them to smithers.”
“Jest does, and no mistake,” said Long Jim.
“Why, Abe couldn’t tell a story like that, with ‘circumstance’ in it, to save his life,” said a third.
Abe shook his head sadly, and left the store, the stranger bidding him good-bye very politely, then turning to join in the laugh. He was a very pleasant young fellow, and he received our open flattery with a quite affable air.
Old Abe, however, had not retired vanquished from the scene. When we trooped out of the store we saw him lost in solemn contemplation of the stranger’s bicycle.
“A good horse, is it not?” said the stranger slyly. “Like to mount?”
“Sir,” said Abe, “allow an old man to shake hands with you. I’m thankful for your offer, but I won’t mount now.” The boys laughed. “No, sir, not now; but, if you’re coming down Blaauw Krantz next Saturday week I’ll meet you at the top and ride down.”