"Motorcycle racing is all right in its way," he said, "but for real sport on two wheels give me the old bicycling days. Why, we had more fun then at one meet than you guys have now in a whole season. I call to mind one time——"
Reddy stopped to light the pipe that he had been carefully packing with rather rank tobacco, and there was a general movement toward him while he was taking the first few puffs. Feet and chairs scraped, and by the time he had his pipe pulling satisfactorily there was a ring of interested faces gathered about him.
"I suppose you think I'm going to spin ye a yarn now, ye good-for-naughts, don't ye?" he inquired, with a ferocious glance around the circle.
"If you back out now, Reddy," laughed Bert, "after getting us worked up this way, we'll all swear to throw the next game we play, just to get even with you."
"Well, I suppose I'll have to satisfy you, that bein' the case," said Reddy, his assumed ferocity of demeanor melting down into a broad grin, "although 'tis not much of a tale at that."
"'Twas in the palmy days of the bike, when everybody that could possibly scrape the price together owned one. A bicycle race in them days meant somethin', let me tell you, and people for fifty miles around would organize parties to go see it.
"Well, I had the fever just like everybody else, and after a while, when I'd saved up enough, me and a friend bought a tandem machine. It cost a pretty penny all right, but it was a well-built machine, and had better stuff in it than most bikes you see nowadays.
"My partner, whose name was Barney Keogh, and myself took many a long spin on it, and many a time had sprints with other 'speed boys' out on the road. We got so we could hit it up at a pretty hot clip, but neither of us ever thought of going into the racing game.
"But one fine Sunday there was a big meet to be held at the old Newark track, in New Jersey, and we made up our minds to go see it. We started out bright an' early and took it easy along the road enjoyin' the scenery and the fresh, mornin' air. 'Twas in the early spring, I remember, and we both felt like two colts that had just been turned loose in a big pasture.
"We just took it easy though, for we had quite a long pull ahead of us, and we was enjoyin' ourselves too much to want to hurry anyway. We got to the track a good hour before the first race was slated to start, and after puttin' our bike in a safe place we meandered around, seein' if we could locate anybody we knew. We hadn't gone far when I heard someone callin' my name, and when I turned I saw a feller named Robertson, a man I'd worked for once. I introduced Barney, and we hadn't talked very long before Robertson informed me that he was one of the committee in charge of affairs. 'Come on around with me to the judges box,' he invited, 'an I'll get you a couple of good seats.'