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Stephens, Robert Neilson, 1867-1906

"Tales from Bohemia"


"He's on that 'bus," said the doctor to Amy as she took his arm on the
sidewalk. "Shall we take the next one?"
"No; for then we can't see where he gets off. Can't we find a cab?"
"There's none in sight. We can have one called here, but we'll have to wait
for it at least ten minutes."
"That will never do. To think he could elude us so easily, without even
knowing that we're after him!"
Vexation was stamped upon the dainty face, with its soft brown eyes, as she
raised her veil.
"Ah! I have it," said Haslam, who would have gone to great lengths to drive
that vexation away.
"A bicycle! This section teems with bicycle shops. We can hire a tandem.
It's a good thing we're both expert bicyclists."
"And that I'm suitably dressed for this kind of a race," replied Amy, as
the two hurried down the block.
She stood outside the bicycle store and kept her gaze upon the 'bus, which
was growing less and less distinct to the eye as it rolled down the street,
while Haslam hastily engaged a two-seated machine.
The 'bus had not yet disappeared in the darkness when the pursuers, Amy
upon the front seat, glided out from the sidewalk and down over the
asphalt.


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