“How did you make out?” asked Gloria, eagerly.
“All right,” replied Tom.
“Can it be fixed?”
“Sure.”
“It’s a wonder you weren’t killed.”
Tom grinned. “That wasn’t anything.”
“It wasn’t!” Gloria’s voice boomed. “Well, if it wasn’t, then I don’t ever want to see another bicycle spill.”
“Not even at the races?”
“No. I hate spills anyhow. They make you gulp and you can’t see anything but dust.”
“You saw my basket go, didn’t you?”