Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1904-05-14
LOVE ON WHEELS.
By JOHN wIcKL1FFE GRAY.

0A} p Wdo DIOuEut lDTtu lfOlu the at
tic and, with the help Of the porter.s
put in condition
All, but it was glorious to have even
a little strength To pedal, thought John
as he took mis- first ride through the
park He was on the bicycle path
that ran down among the alders, where
1t wound In and out like snake.
crossed little bridge and then
wormed its way around the hill. 1t
needed only companion to make the
day and his enjoyment perfect. And
naturally he reverted to the Bicycle
Girl who crossed into the park every
morning.
He had not seen her since that day
when DR.. McRae was In the room, and
now. three days after, in desperation
and growing fear that he would not see
her again, he had come out alone
Suddenly, out OF by-path, the girl
of his thoughts darted. There was a
simultaneous twist OF front wheels
away from each other to avoid a COL
lislon. In a moment they were con.
templating each other, with foot OF
each on the ground and their handle
bars touching
There was simultaneous laugh.
Pardon me, he said, removing his
cap.
There's nothing to pardon" she
said smilingly, as both wheels were
righted. Jonn knew instinctively that
she would smile like that.
= see ! have bent several spokes,"
said Jonn. u suppose | might as well
straighten them now" he added
John took out his kit, only to find
his wrench missing
May | borrow your wrench?" he
asked.
Certainly. Mr. Haworth," she an
swered.
"You know my name?" he ex-
claimed. delighted as well as surprised
at the turn of affairs.
Yes. / was at college with your sis
ter. And | want to thank you for
beautiful silk shawl you sent me,
though we have never met | am JOS
ephine Randall A scarcely perceptible
color mounted TO her cheek as she ex-
tended her hand. John remembered,
now, the shawl he had placed in the
homeward- bound box Of curios for his
sisters chum, Miss Randall, who was
frequently mentioned in the letters he
had received on the other side of the
world.
"Poth myself and the shawl are hon
ored." he exclaimed, with warmth.
I'VE would have met before perhaps,
had your sister been at home,' Miss
Randall went on.
Now that we have met. may not we
finish the ride together?" he asked,
wistfully.
And thereaftre the invalid soldier
pinned no more for companion a.
wheel. Two bicycles instead of one
crossed the street to the park every
morning.
Would she come to-day?
John Haworth leaned back in has
inyalids chair and scanned every vehi-
Gle that appeared from the uptown
horizon He IVES seated in the big
bay window that looked out over the
trees and meadows and winding roads
and paths of the park. Now and then
the light June breeze waited across
the street the prattle of half dozen
children at play on the greensward
nearest where the invalid sat TO the
philosophic and the speculative, it was
an ideal spot to study human nature as
we find it on the sidewalk-the lights
and shadows of the past shining dimly
through the features OF those who
hurry by.
But the speculation of John Ila-
worth ran in another direction. And
every morning for two weeks it had
been the same. Before that time he
had helped to pass the tedious hours
Ny watching the faces just below him
on the street from the time they came
into good view four doors north OF
south until they were gone, to give
place to others.
There was look of eagerness on the
invalid's face as he glanced at his
watch for the fifth time within the half
hour. 1t lacked but five minutes now
of the time when the Bicycle Girl, as
he chose to call her, would pass
through the entrance of the park al
most opposite.
Il think he might take bit more
exercise, walking in the park, for in
stance. in the next day or So" John
turned to see his mother and Dr. Nc
Rae, the family physician, enter the
room. There will be no further ne
eessity for my services, think. How
does that sound, John?" he added,
cheerily.
Almost as good as the sight of
home after two years in the Philip
pines, Doc | think" he broke off
suddenly and turned his eyes to the
street
Yes, there she was. The same nat
ty, tailor-made riding skirt and jacket;
the same fluffy. dark hair that refused
to be kept under the jauntiest of little
caps.
The girl glanced up and--was it a
bow? Or had she merely turned her