Had the gentleman said—"Pooh! It's easy. You ought to do it without hurting yourself, in so many weeks time,"—had he said that, I should have been sadly disheartened.
* * * *
When in Adelaide previously I had sounded a cycle-agent as to the reward he would be prepared to offer a man for undertaking the trip.
Like the others he ridiculed the notion—termed it preposterous, spoke of crocodiles, and of the rider having to carry a spare set of tyres, bags of flour, tanks of water, perhaps an extra machine. Nevertheless he proposed that the hare-brained unknown one be got to purchase a bicycle (on the sale of which I, of course, would be allowed a small commission), "and should he get through," remarked the agent, with a wink, "I would not mind returning him the purchase money."
"But, stay," he added, as an afterthought, climbing down yet lower, "it's bound to be a failure, and failure does nobody any good, you know; so I'd rather not have my name or one of my machines mixed up with the thing at all."
As this might be the prevailing feeling among cycle-agents (and I have good reasons now for believing that it was) I determined on acting independently of them also. Than this resolution nothing in connection with the undertaking has since given me greater satisfaction; nor was anything more comforting during the ride than the feeling of complete independence which flowed from it.
* * * *
I knew a little about bicycles, and did not pick one at random in the first, second, or any other agency I entered. Besides being on the look-out for a good mount, I was also seeking a firm which I could, if occasion arose, recommend others to deal with.
At last my choice was made. I paid the money, said nothing of my plans, and no embarrassing questions were asked.