"That's very good," said the young man; "very good indeed. You have an extremely intelligent bicycle. Keep training it for a week; and it will go almost as well as mine."
"There aren't any pedals on yours," said Kenneth, as he looked at the other's wheel.
"Well, there aren't any pedals on a horse either, are there?" asked the young man, promptly. "Did you ever see a man riding a horse in Smithville, and pumping him along with pedals?"
"I forgot," said Kenneth. "I'll take them off of mine," and he reached down and did so. "What shall I do with them?"
"Oh, throw 'em in the ash-can," said the other, airily. "They're no good."
Kenneth didn't see any ash-can, so he tossed them behind some bushes, and began to give his bicycle practice at going alone about on the grass-plot. It learned rapidly, and he soon ventured to mount it, and after one or two tumbles it circled around, went ahead, and backed up very well indeed.
"Well, now, what shall we do?" asked the young man.
"I hardly know," answered Kenneth. "You're better acquainted with the country than I. You suggest something."
"I was on my way to the circus," said the other. "Suppose you come along. They say it's a very good show. It certainly has one great curiosity which I am anxious to see."
"What's that?" asked Kenneth.