"If you are anxious for mild excitement, and want to earn my daughter's gratitude, you might tackle that confounded thing, Mr. Thurston," he said. "The local blacksmith shakes his head over it, and sent it back the last time worse than ever, with several necessary portions missing. After running many kinds of machines in my time, I'm willing to own that this particular specimen defies me."
Thurston had stripped and fitted various intricate mining appliances, but he had never struggled with a bicycle. So, when Helen accepted his offer of assistance, he wheeled the machine out upon the lawn and proceeded light-heartedly to dismantle it, while the Savine brothers lounged in cane chairs, encouraging him over their cigars. The dismantling was comparatively simple, but when the time for reassembling came, Thurston, who found that certain cups could not by any legitimate means be induced to screw home into their places, was perforce obliged to rest the machine upon two chairs and wriggle underneath it, where he reclined upon his back with grimy oil dripping upon his forehead. Red in the face, he crawled out to breathe at intervals, and Helen made stern efforts to conceal her mingled alarm and merriment, when Thomas Savine said:
"Will you take long odds, Thurston, that you never make that invention of his Satanic Majesty run straight again?"
Mrs. Savine cautioned the operator about sunstroke and apoplexy. When Thomas Savine caught Helen's eye, both laughed outright, and Geoffrey, mistaking the reason, felt hurt; he determined to conquer the bicycle or remain beneath it all night. When at last he succeeded in putting the various parts together and straightened his aching back, he hoped that he did not look so disgusted, grimy and savage as he undoubtedly felt.
"You must really let it alone," said Helen. "The sun is very hot, and perhaps, you might be more successful after luncheon. I have noticed that when mending bicycles a rest and refreshment sometimes prove beneficial."
"That's so!" agreed Thomas Savine. "Young Harry was wont to tackle it on just those lines. He used up several of my best Cubanos and a bottle of claret each time, before he had finished; and then I was never convinced that the thing went any better."
"You must beware of ruining your health," interposed Mrs. Savine. "Mending bicycles frequently leads to an accumulation of malevolent humors. Did I interrupt you, Mr. Thurston?"
"I was only going to say that it is nearly finished, and that I should not like to be vanquished by an affair of this kind," said Geoffrey with emphasis. "Would it hurt the machine if I stood it upon its head, Miss Savine?"
"Oh, no, and I am so grateful," Helen answered assuringly, noticing guiltily that there were oil and red dust, besides many somber smears, upon the operator's face and jacket, while the skin was missing from several of his knuckles.
It was done at last, and Geoffrey sighed, while the rest of the party expressed surprise as well as admiration when the wheels revolved freely without click or groan. Julius Savine nodded, with more than casual approval, and Helen was gracious with her thanks.