"Yes. I think Pierre must have shot at them in the water. I'll sit down just a minute."
At the end of a minute, Johnny was up and on his way to the place where he had left his bicycle. Felix followed slowly, calling him "Grandfather Prim" for being so particular about getting home early.
"I say, Johnny, there aren't any pickpockets or kidnappers about here! What's the matter if we don't get home till after dark? It's going to be bright moonlight to-night."
Johnny made no reply, but walked on, and regained his bicycle.
"Are you going home with me?" he said, as Felix sat down on a block of granite, still laughing, and trying to tease him.
"Oh! I an't in any hurry, and it wouldn't take me long to overtake you if you were half way home. Besides, Oliver told me of a nearer way, and so I can cut across and get home before you."
"If there is a nearer way, we had better take it; for don't you see it is clouding up? I don't believe we shall have any moonlight to-night." As he said this, Johnny mounted his bicycle.
Felix now noticed, for the first time, that it was growing suddenly darker, and that a heavy cloud was rising from the waterside. He did not care about going home in total darkness and a rain-storm, with the wind blowing from the ocean: he had seen enough such storms the year before, to know what they meant.
"You saw that other road we passed, just the other side of the quarrymen's houses?" he said, stepping upon his bicycle.
"Yes, I noticed it. But come on: we can be talking while we ride, and there is no time to lose."