“What are you riding it for then?”
“I’m just bringing it home from Berly’s Bicycle Shop,” said Hervey. “I never use it much. Places where I go, you couldn’t ride a bike. If you should meet any one that wants to buy a bike, let me know, will you?”
“Sure,” said Hinkey, uninterested.
“Do you want to buy it?” Hervey asked, emboldened.
“What would I want to buy it for when I drive a car?” Hinkey asked.
That was Hervey’s last hope. He rode his bike home, put it in the cellar and went upstairs to his room. He had many times disregarded the law, but he had never before found himself at grips with it like this. And all because he had been just a little heedless in pursuing a ball. He thought that the whole business was monstrously unfair.
What had he done that was so bad? It never occurred to him that the whole trouble was this— that he had got himself into a position where he could not move either way. He could not run the risk of making a confident of Mr. Walton in this small matter because of other matters. This matter was serious only because he had made it so. He was in a predicament, as he always was. Once he had hung from a tree by his feet and could not let go nor yet regain hold with his hands. And there you have Hervey. Mental quandaries or physical quandaries, it was all the same.
Well, there was one thing he could do which he had many times thought of doing; he could run away from home. That seemed to be the only thing left to do. He had many times made unauthorized excursions from home, but he had never run away. Happy-go-lucky and reckless as he was, he could not think of this without a tremor. But it was the only thing to do. He would not go to jail even for a day, he could not pay his fine, and he dared not tell his stepfather of his predicament. He resolved to run away.
Once resolved to do a thing, Hervey was never at a loss. He would go away and he would never return. He would go that very night. Since he was unable to meet the situation he had a feeling that at any moment something might happen. Yet he did not know where to go. Well, he would think about that after he got in bed and would start off early in the morning; that would be better. There was a circus in Clover Valley. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea to hike there and join the circus? Surely they could give him a job. And pretty soon he would be miles and miles distant. He had had enough of Farrelton and all this business....
He started to undress, but he was not altogether happy. Suppose everything did not go right? He had no money—oh well, a lot he cared! He sat on the edge of the bed unlacing his shoes. No promptings of sentiment stood in the way of his resolve. But running away from home without any money was a serious business and he wondered just how he was going to manage it. He would like to go to sea, only in this inland city⸺