"But it would be such fun, papa," Theodora said, with a suspicion of a
pout.
"It's too far, Teddy. It must be twenty miles each way."
"I rode thirty, yesterday."
"I think that is too far for you."
"Oh, please."
"We could take the train back, if Ted should get used up," Hubert
suggested.
"Yes, only it's going to be such lovely moonlight."
"Then take the train over and ride back," Hubert amended. "Truly, papa,
I think Ted could do it. She rides like an Indian."
"I didn't know that Indians had taken to bicycles," Mrs. McAlister said,
with a smile.
"Like a tomboy, then."
"That's not polite," Theodora protested.
"Never mind; it's true. But can't we try it, papa? Aunt Alice is always
asking us to come over to see her, and this is such a splendid chance,
before I go back into school, or it gets too warm. We can ride over,
Friday morning, stay all day, and come back at night. The twilights are
long, at this season, and the moon will be full."
Hubert's persuasion carried the day, and the doctor gave a reluctant
permission. Three days later, the twins set forth on their ride.
Theodora, in her spotless linen suit and with her pretty wheel, was
radiant with anticipations. It was her first all-day trip on her
bicycle, and she felt that it would be a much more enjoyable experience
than her shorter rides, which, for the most part, had been beside
Billy's tricycle. In some mysterious manner known only to boys, Hubert
had learned to ride without being taught, and an occasional spin on a
borrowed wheel was apparently all that was needed to keep him in perfect
training.
The whole family assembled on the piazza to see them start.
"You'd better not ride back," Mrs. McAlister called after them. "If you
are at all tired, Teddy, you must take the train."
"Yes," Theodora said, with outward obedience and an inward resolve not
to be at all tired.
"If you do ride, when shall you get home?" the doctor asked. "Give
yourselves plenty of time, only set some limit, so that we sha'n't be
anxious."
"Hm," Theodora said thoughtfully. "Supper at five, start at six, two
hours to ride, and an hour for delays. We'll be at home at nine, at the
latest."
"Very well. Say half-past nine, then. We won't worry till then. Take
care of yourselves and have a good time." And the doctor flourished his
napkin in farewell, and then went back to his breakfast.
"Dear old Daddy!" Theodora said, while she turned in her saddle to look
back, and then waved a good-by to Billy on his piazza. "He didn't want
us to go. I do hope he won't be anxious."
"Don't you suppose I can take care of you, ma'am?" Hubert asked, in mock
indignation, and Theodora smiled back at him contentedly.
The day was hot and dusty, and the roads more sandy than they had
supposed possible, so that it was a very limp and demoralized Theodora
who landed, three hours later, on her aunt's piazza. Theodora was always
destructive to her toilets, and in some mysterious manner she had parted
with all of her starch and most of her neatness, in the course of the
last nineteen miles. Once inside the cool, dark house, with a glass of
lemonade in her hand, however, Theodora forgot the discomforts of the
road.
"How goes it with you, Ted?" Hubert asked, late that afternoon. "Shall
we ride, or take the train?"
She pointed up at the clear sky, broken only by a few fleecy masses of
cloud on the western horizon.
"Think what that moon will be, and then ask me to take the train if you
dare."
"Aren't you tired?"
"Not a bit. Don't you think we can do it, Hu?"
He laughed at her spirit.
"All right. Don't blame me, though, if you are dead, to-morrow."
She tossed her head proudly.
"I don't die so easily; but, if you 're tired, we'll take the cars."
They had planned to start for home at six; but callers delayed the
supper, and, when they finally mounted, the moon was standing out in the
eastern sky, like a thick, white vapor. There was a chorus of good-byes,
a clashing of two bells, and the twins started off upon their homeward
ride.
For the first hour, it seemed to Theodora that she had never ridden more
easily. The fatigue of the morning had worn away, leaving only the
exhilaration; and, like most riders, she came to her best strength late
in the day. Slowly the twilight fell about them, and, as the golden
light of the sunset died away in the west, the silver lustre of the full
moon brightened the eastern sky. Theodora's gown was damp with the
falling dew, as they rolled quietly on between fields pale with sleepy
daisies and nodding buttercups. One by one, the cows in the pastures
stopped grazing and lay down to rest; while, above their heads, the
birds drowsily exchanged sweet good-nights. Then the last glow faded
from the west, and the world fell asleep.
"I don't half like those clouds, Ted," Hubert said suddenly. "If they
come up much faster, they'll play the mischief with us before we get
home."
"Oh, they won't do any harm," Theodora said easily. "It will be light
enough to ride to-night, even if it is cloudy."
"But we have that long stretch of woods, you know."
"I forgot that." Theodora spoke lower, and involuntarily glanced over
her shoulder. "How far is it?"
"Five miles. That won't take us long, and we're almost there now."
"Yes; but it's hilly and no track to speak of. Hurry, Hu! Let's ride
faster and get through it before that cloud gets over the moon. I wish
we had lanterns."
It is exciting work to race with a cloud. Vapors are unreliable things
at best, and are prone to roll up the sky with fateful swiftness. As
Hubert and Theodora came under the first of the trees, the cloud came
above them, and the moon vanished. Theodora was as plucky as a girl
could be; but there was something rather fearful to her in this dark and
lonely road, where she and Hubert were the only moving objects, but
where unknown beings might lurk in every shadow, ready to spring out and
drag her down to the earth. The formless fear lent an unsteadiness to
her progress, and she began to wobble.
"How dark it is!" she said, in an odd, constrained little voice. "It
must be very late, Hu. Can you see your watch?"
"It's not light enough."
"Haven't you a match?"
"No."
"I know we sha'n't get home at nine."
"We have till half past, you know. Keep up your pluck, Ted. We're all
right. Let's ride a little faster."
Half-way down the next hill, there came a clatter and a bump, followed
by a little moan from Theodora. Hubert sprang to the ground and ran to
her side.
"I slipped in the sand and had a fall, a bad one. I've done something to
my ankle."
"Is it sprained?"
"I'm afraid so."
Leaning heavily on his arm, she scrambled to her feet.
"What is it, Ted? Shall we go back?"
She shut her teeth for a moment.
"No; what's the use?"
"Sha'n't I go for somebody?"
"Where's the nearest house?"
"Two miles back."