"You know I can't! No money, and mustn't borrow. What's the use of twitting a fellow like that?" and Hugh with great difficulty refrained from knocking off the new helmet-hat which was close to his foot as Sid bent to inspect the shining hub of the cherished wheel.
"Take Sancho, then; you might arrive before the fun was all over, if you carried whips and pins and crackers enough to keep the old boy going; you'd be a nice span."
This allusion to the useless donkey was cruel, but Hugh held on to the last remnant of his temper, and made a wild proposal in the despair of the moment.
"Don't be a donkey yourself. See here, why can't we ride and tie? I've tried this wheel, and got on tip-top. You'd be along to see to me, and we'd take turns. Do, Sid! I want to go awfully, and if you only will I won't say another word about Joe."
But Sid only burst out laughing at the plan, in the most heartless manner.
"No, thank you. I don't mean to walk a step when I can ride; or lend my new wheel to a chap who can hardly keep right side up on the old one. It looks like a jolly plan to you, I dare say, but I don't see it, young man."
"I hope I sha'n't be a selfish brute when I'm seventeen. I'll have a bicycle yet,—A, No. 1,—and then you'll see how I'll lend it, like a gentleman, and not insult other fellows because they happen to be two or three years younger."
"Keep cool, my son, and don't call names. If you are such a smart lad, why don't you walk, since wheels and horses and donkey fail. It's only twenty miles,—nothing to speak of, you know."
"Well, I could do it if I liked. I've walked eighteen, and wasn't half so tired as you were. Any one can get over the ground on a bicycle, but it takes strength and courage to keep it up on foot."
"Better try it."