"Not at all," laughed Bikey. "Your other adventures have been quite different. But, I say, we're getting there. I can see five moons ahead already."
"I can see six," cried Jimmieboy, quite elated. "Yes, six—and—one more."
"You've got nearly the whole set, as the boy said when he came to the other boy's Nicaragua page in the stamp album. There are only eight altogether—only I think your seventh is Saturn itself."
"It must be," said Jimmieboy. "It's got a hello around it."
"What's that?" asked Bikey.
"I forgot," said Jimmieboy. "You never went to Sunday school, and so of course you don't know what a hello is. It's a thing like a gold hoople that angels wear on their heads."
"I'll have to get one," said Bikey. "I heard somebody say I was an angel of a bicycle. I don't know what she meant, though. What is an angel?"
"It's a—a—good thing with wings," said Jimmieboy.
"Humph!" said Bikey, "I'm afraid I'm not one of those. Don't they ever have wheels? I'm a good thing, but I haven't any wings."
"I never heard of an angel with wheels," said Jimmieboy. "But I suppose they come. Angels have everything that's worth having."