The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces: The Bicyclers

The Bicyclers

CHARACTERS:
MR. ROBERT YARDSLEY, an expert.
MR. JACK BARLOW, another.
MR. THADDEUS PERKINS, a beginner.
MR. EDWARD BRADLEY, a scoffer.
MRS. THADDEUS PERKINS, a resistant.
MRS. EDWARD BRADLEY, an enthusiast.
JENNIE, a maid.
The scene is laid in the drawing-room of Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus
Perkins, at No. --- Gramercy Square.  It is late October; the action
begins at 8.30 o'clock on a moonlight evening.  The curtain rising
discloses Mr. and Mrs. Perkins sitting together.  At right is large
window facing on square.  At rear is entrance to drawing-room.
Leaning against doorway is a safety bicycle.  Perkins is clad in
bicycle garb.
Perkins.  Well, Bess, I'm in for it now, and no mistake.  Bob and
Jack are coming to-night to give me my first lesson in biking.
Mrs. Perkins.  I'm very glad of it, Thaddeus.  I think it will do you
a world of good.  You've been working too hard of late, and you need
relaxation.
Perkins (doubtfully).  I know that--but--from what I can gather,
learning to ride a wheel isn't the most restful thing in the world.
There's a good deal of lying down about it; but it comes with too
great suddenness; that is, so Charlie Cheeseborough says.  He learned
up at the Academy, and he told me that he spent most of his time
making dents in the floor with his head.
Mrs. Perkins.  Well, I heard differently.  Emma Bradley learned there
at the same time he did, and she said he spent most of his time
making dents in the floor with other people's heads.  Why, really, he
drove all the ladies to wearing those odious Psyche knots.  The time
he ran into Emma, if she hadn't worn her back hair that way she'd
have fractured her skull.
Perkins.  Ha, ha!  They all tell the same story.  Barlow said he
always wore a beaver hat while Cheeseborough was on the floor, so
that if Charlie ran into him and he took a header his brain wouldn't
suffer.
Mrs. Perkins.  Nevertheless, Mr. Cheeseborough learned more quickly
than any one else in the class.
Perkins.  So Barlow said--because he wasn't eternally in his own way,
as he was in every one else's.  (A ring is heard at the front door.)
Ah! I guess that's Bob and Jack.
Enter Jennie.
Jennie.  Mr. Bradley, ma'am.
Perkins.  Bradley?  Wonder what the deuce he's come for?  He'll guy
the life out of me.  (Enter Bradley.  He wears a dinner coat.)  Ah,
Brad, old chap, how are you?  Glad to see you.
Bradley.  Good-evening, Mrs. Perkins.  This your eldest?  [With a nod
at Perkins.
Mrs. Perkins.  My eldest?
Bradley.  Yes--judged from his togs it was your boy.  What!  Can it
be?  You!  Thaddeus?
Perkins.  That's who I am.
Bradley.  When did you go into short trousers?
Perkins (with a feeble laugh, glancing at his clothes).  Oh, these--
ha, ha!  I'm taking up the bicycle.  Even if it weren't for the
exhilaration of riding, it's a luxury to wear these clothes.  Old
flannel shirt, old coat, old pair of trousers shortened to the knee,
and golf stockings.  I've had these golf stockings two years, and
never had a chance to wear 'em till now.
Bradley.  You've got it bad, haven't you?  How many lessons have you
had?
Perkins.  None yet.  Fact is, just got my wheel--that's it over there
by the door--pneumatic tires, tool-chest, cyclometer, lamp--all for a
hun.
Bradley (with a laugh).  How about life-insurance?  Do they throw in
a policy for that?  They ought to.
Perkins.  No--but they would if I'd insisted.  Competition between
makers is so great, they'll give you most anything to induce a
bargain.  The only thing they really gave me extra is the ki-yi gun.
Mrs. Perkins.  The what?
Perkins.  Ki-yi gun--it shoots dogs.  Dog comes out, catches sight of
your leg--
Bradley.  Mistakes it for a bone and grabs--eh?
Perkins.  Well--I fancy that's about the size of it.  You can't very
well get off, so you get out your ki-yi gun and shoot ammonia into
the beast's face.  It doesn't hurt the dog, but it gives him
something to think of.  I'll show you how the thing works.  (Gets the
gun from tool-box.)  This is the deadly weapon, and I'm the rider--
see?  (Sits on a chair, with face to back, and works imaginary
pedals.)  You're the dog.  I'm passing the farm-yard.  Bow-wow! out
you spring--grab me by the bone--I--ah--I mean the leg.  Pouf! I
shoot you with ammonia.  [Suits action to the word.
Bradley (starting back).  Hi, hold on!  Don't squirt that infernal
stuff at me!  My dear boy, get a grip on yourself.  I'm not really a
ki-yi, and while I don't like bicyclists, their bones are safe from
me.  I won't bite you.
Mrs. Perkins.  Really--I think that's a very ingenious arrangement;
don't you, Mr. Bradley?
Bradley.  I do, indeed.  But, as long as we're talking about it, I
must say I think what Thaddeus really needs is a motormangun, to
squirt ammonia, or even beer, into the faces of these cable-car
fellows.  They're more likely to interfere with him than dogs--don't
you think?
Perkins.  It's a first-rate idea, Brad.  I'll suggest it to my agent.
Bradley.  Your what?
Perkins (apologetically).  Well, I call him my agent, although really
I've only bought this one wheel from him.  He represents the Czar
Manufacturing Company.
Bradley.  They make Czars, do they?
Perkins (with dignity).  They make wheels.  The man who owns the
company is named Czar.  I refer to him as my agent, because from the
moment he learned I thought of buying a wheel he came and lived with
me.  I couldn't get rid of him, and finally in self-defence I bought
this wheel.  It was the only way I could get rid of him.
Bradley.  Aha!  That's the milk in the cocoanut. eh?  Hadn't force of
mind to get rid of the agent.  Couldn't say no.  Humph!  I wondered
why you, a man of sense, a man of dignity, a gentleman, should take
up with this--
Perkins (angrily).  See here, Brad, I like you very much, but I must
say--
Mrs. Perkins (foreseeing a quarrel).  Thaddeus!  'Sh!  Ah, by-the-
way, Mr. Bradley, where is Emma this evening?  I never knew you to be
separated before.
Bradley (sorrowfully).  This is the first time, Mrs. Perkins.  Fact
is, we'd intended calling on you to-night, and I dressed as you see
me.  Emma was in proper garb too, but when she saw what a beautiful
night it was, she told me to go ahead, and she--By Jove! it almost
makes me weep!
Perkins.  She wasn't taken ill?
Bradley.  No--worse.  She said:  "You go down on the ' L.'  I'll
bike.  It's such a splendid night."  Fine piece of business this!  To
have a bicycle come between man and wife is a pretty hard fate, I
think--for the one who doesn't ride.
Mrs. Perkins.  Then Emma is coming here?
Bradley.  That's the idea, on her wheel--coming down the Boulevard,
across Seventy-second Street, through the Park, down Madison, across
Twenty-third, down Fourth to Twenty-first, then here.
Perkins.  Bully ride that.
Mrs. Perkins.  Alone?
Bradley (sadly).  I hope so--but these bicyclists have a way of
flocking together.  For all I know, my beloved Emma may now be
coasting down Murray Hill escorted by some bicycle club from Jersey
City.
Mrs. Perkins.  Oh dear--Mr. Bradley!
Bradley.  Oh, it's all right, I assure you, Mrs. Perkins.  Perfectly
right and proper.  It's merely part of the exercise, don't you know.
There's a hail-fellow-well-metness about enthusiastic bicyclists, and
Emma is intensely enthusiastic.  It gives her a chance, you know, and
Emma has always wanted a chance.  Independence is a thing she's been
after ever since she got her freedom, and now, thanks to the wheel,
she's got it again, and even I must admit it's harmless.  Funny she
doesn't get here though (looking at his watch); she's had time to
come down twice.
[Bicycle bells are heard ringing without.
Mrs. Perkins.  Maybe that is she now.  Go and see, will you,
Thaddeus?  [Exit Perkins.
Perkins (without), That you, Mrs. Bradley?
[Mrs. Perkins and Bradley listen intently.
Two Male Voices.  No; it's us, Perk.  Got your wheel?
Bradley and Mrs. Perkins.  Where can she be?
Enter Perkins with Barlow and Yardsley.
They both greet Mrs. Perkins.
Yardsley.  Hullo, Brad!  You going to have a lesson too?
Barlow.  Dressed for it, aren't you, by Jove!  Nothing like a dinner
coat for a bicycle ride.  Your coat-tails don't catch in the gear.
Bradley (severely).  I haven't taken it up--fact is, I don't care for
fads.  Have you seen my wife?
Yardsley.  Yes--saw her the other night at the academy.  Rides mighty
well, too, Brad.  Don't wonder you don't take it up.  Contrast, you
know--eh, Perk?  Fearful thing for a man to have the world see how
much smarter his wife is than he is.
Perkins (turning to his wheel).  Bradley's a little worried about the
non-arrival of Mrs. Bradley.  She was coming here on her wheel, and
started about the same time he did.
Barlow.  Oh, that's all right, Ned.  She knows her wheel as well as
you know your business.  Can't come down quite as fast as the "L,"
particularly these nights just before election.  She may have fallen
in with some political parade, and is waiting to get across the
street.
Bradley (aside).  Well, I like that!
Mrs. Perkins (aside).  Why--it's awful!
Yardsley.  Or she may possibly have punctured her tire--that would
delay her fifteen or twenty minutes.  Don't worry, my dear boy.  I
showed her how to fix a punctured tire all right.  It's simple
enough--you take the rubber thing they give you and fasten it in that
metal thingumbob, glue it up, poke it in, pull it out, pump her up,
and there you are.
Bradley (scornfully).  You told her that, did you?
Yardsley.  I did.
Bradley (with a mock sigh of relief).  You don't know what a load
you've taken off my mind.
Barlow (looking at his watch).  H'm!  Thaddeus, it's nine o'clock.  I
move we go out and have the lesson.  Eh?  The moon is just right.
Yardsley.  Yes--we can't begin too soon.  Wheel all right?
Perkins.  Guess so--I'm ready.
Bradley.  I'll go out to the corner and see if there's any sign of
Mrs. Bradley.  [Exit.
Mrs. Perkins (who has been gazing out of window for some moments).  I
do wish Emma would come.  I can't understand how women can do these
things.  Riding down here all alone at night!  It is perfectly
ridiculous!
Yardsley (rolling Perkins's wheel into middle of room).  Czar wheel,
eh?
Perkins (meekly).  Yes--best going--they tell me.
Barlow.  Can't compare with the Alberta.  Has a way of going to
pieces like the "one-hoss shay"--eh, Bob?
Yardsley.  Exactly--when you least expect it, too--though the Alberta
isn't much better.  You get coasting on either of 'em, and half-way
down, bang! the front wheel collapses, hind wheel flies up and hits
you in the neck, handle-bar turns just in time to stab you in the
chest; and there you are, miles from home, a physical, moral, bicycle
wreck.  But the Arena wheel is different.  In fact, I may say that
the only safe wheel is the Arena.  That's the one I ride.  However,
at fifty dollars this one isn't extravagant.
Perkins.  I paid a hundred.
Yardsley.  A wha--a--at?
Perkins.  Hundred.
Barlow.  Well you are a--a--good fellow.  It's a pretty wheel,
anyhow.  Eh, Bob?
Yardsley.  Simple beauty.  Is she pumped up?
Perkins.  Beg your pardon?
Yardsley.  Pumped up, tires full and tight--ready for action--support
an elephant?
Perkins.  Guess so--my--I mean, the agent said it was perfect.
Yardsley.  Extra nuts?
Perkins.  What?
Yardsley.  Extra nuts--nuts extra.  Suppose you lose a nut, and your
pedal comes off; what you going to do--get a tow?
Barlow.  Guess Perkins thinks this is like going to sleep.
Perkins.  I don't know anything about it.  What I'm after is
information; only, I give you warning, I will not ride so as to get
round shoulders.
Yardsley.  Then where's your wrench?  Screw up your bar, hoist your
handles, elevate your saddle, and you're O.K.  What saddle have you?
Perkins (tapping it).  This.
Barlow.  Humph!  Not very good--but we'll try it.  Come on.  It's
getting late.
[They go out.  Perkins reluctantly.  In a moment he returns alone,
and, rushing to Mrs. Perkins, kisses her affectionately.
Perkins.  Good-bye, dearest.
Mrs. Perkins.  Good-bye.  Don't hurt yourself, Thaddeus.  [Exit
Perkins.
Mrs. Perkins (leaving window and looking at clock on mantel).  Ten
minutes past nine and Emma not here yet.  It does seem too bad that
she should worry Ed so much just for independence' sake.  I am quite
sure I should never want to ride a wheel anyhow, and even if I did--
Enter Yardsley hurriedly, with a piece of flannel in his hand.
Yardsley.  I beg pardon, Mrs. Perkins, but have you a shawl-strap in
the house?
Mrs. Perkins (tragically).  What is that you have in your hand, Mr.
Yardsley?
Yardsley (with a glance at the piece of flannel).  That?  Oh--ha-ha--
that--that's a--ah--a piece of flannel.
Mrs. Perkins (snatching the flannel from Yardsley's hand).  But
Teddy--isn't that a piece of Teddy's--Teddy's shirt?
Yardsley.  More than that, Mrs. Perkins.  It's the greater part of
Teddy's shirt.  That's why we want the shawl-strap.  When we started
him off, you know, he took his coat off.  Jack held on to the wheel,
and I took Teddy in the fulness of his shirt.  One--two--three!
Teddy put on steam--Barlow let go--Teddy went off--I held on--this is
what remained.  It ruined the shirt, but Teddy is safe.  (Aside.)
Barring about sixty or seventy bruises.
Mrs. Perkins (with a faint smile).  And the shawl-strap?
Yardsley.  I want to fasten it around Teddy's waist, grab hold of the
handle, and so hold him up.  He's all right, so don't you worry.
(Exit Mrs. Perkins in search of shawl-strap.)  Guess I'd better not
say anything about the Pond's Extract he told me to bring--doesn't
need it, anyhow.  Man's got to get used to leaving pieces of his
ankle-bone on the curb-stone if he wants to learn to ride a wheel.
Only worry her if I asked her for it--won't hurt him to suffer a
week.
Enter Bradley.
Bradley.  Has she come yet?
Yardsley.  No--just gone up-stairs for a shawl-strap.
Bradley.  Shawl-strap?  Who?
Perkins (outside).  Hurry up with that Pond's Extract, will you?
Yardsley.  All right--coming.  Who?  Who what?
Bradley.  Who has gone up-stairs after shawl-strap--my wife?
Yardsley.  No, no, no.  Hasn't she got here yet?  It's Mrs. Perkins.
Perk fell off just now and broke in two.  We want to fasten him
together.
Barlow (outside).  Bring out that pump.  His wheel's flabby.
Enter Mrs. Perkins with shawl-strap.
Mrs. Perkins.  Here it is.  What did I hear about Pond's Extract?
Didn't somebody call for it?
Yardsley.  No--oh no--not a bit of it!  What you heard was shawl-
strap--sounds like extract--very much like it.  In fact--
Bradley.  But you did say you wanted--
Yardsley (aside to Bradley).  Shut up!  Thaddeus banged his ankle,
but he'll get over it in a minute.  She'd only worry.  The best
bicyclers in the world are all the time falling off, taking headers,
and banging their ankles.
Bradley.  Poor Emma!
Enter Barlow.
Barlow.  Where the deuce is that Ex--
Yardsley (grasping him by the arm and pushing him out).  Here it is;
this is the ex-strap, just what we wanted.  (Aside to Bradley.)  Go
down to the drug-store and get a bottle of Pond's, will you?  [Exit.
Mrs. Perkins (walking to window).  She can't be long in coming now.
Bradley.  I guess I'll go out to the corner again.  (Aside.)  Best
bicyclers always smashing ankles, falling off, taking headers!  If I
ever get hold of Emma again, I'll see whether she'll ride that--
[Rushes out.
Mrs. Perkins.  It seems to have made these men crazy.  I never saw
such strange behavior in all my life.  (The telephone-bell rings.)
What can that be?  (Goes to 'phone, which stands just outside parlor
door.)  Hello!  What?  Yes, this is 1181--yes.  Who are you?  What?
Emma?  Oh dear, I'm so glad!  Are you alive?  Where are you?  What?
_Where_?  _The police-station_!  (Turning from telephone.)  Thaddeus,
Mr. Barlow, Mr. Yardsley.  (Into telephone.)  Hello!  What for?
What?  Riding without a lamp!  Arrested at Forty-second Street!  Want
to be bailed out?  (Drops receiver.  Rushes into parlor and throws
herself on sofa.)  To think of it--Emma Bradley!  (Telephone-bell
rings violently again; Mrs. Perkins goes to it.)  Hello!  Yes.  Tell
Ed what?  To ask for Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins.  Who's she?  What,
_you_!  (Drops the receiver; runs to window.)  Thaddeus!  Mr.
Yardsley!  Mr. Barlow!--all of you come here, quick.
[They rush in.  Perkins with shawl-strap about his waist--limping.
Barlow has large air-pump in his hand.  Mrs. Perkins grows faint.
Perkins.  Great heavens!  What's the matter?
Barlow.  Get some water--quick!
[Yardsley runs for water.
Mrs. Perkins.  Air!  Give me air!
Perkins (grabbing pump from Barlow's hand).  Don't stand there like
an idiot!  Act!  She wants air!
[Places pump on floor and begins to pump air at her.
Barlow.  Who's the idiot now?  Wheel her over to the window.  She's
not a bicycle.
They do so.  Mrs. Perkins revives.
Perkins.  What is the matter?
Mrs. Perkins.  Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins--arrested--Forty-second
Street--no lamp--bailed out.  Oh, dear me, dear me!  It'll all be in
the papers!
Perkins.  What's that got to do with us?  Who's Mrs. Willoughby
Hawkins?
Mrs. Perkins.  Emma!  Assumed name.
Barlow.  Good Lord!  Mrs. Bradley in jail?
Perkins.  This is a nice piece of--ow--my ankle, my ankle!
[Enter Bradley and Yardsley at same time, Bradley with bottle of
Pond's Extract, Yardsley with glass of water.
Bradley.  Where the deuce did you fellows go to?  I've been wandering
all over the square looking for you.
Perkins.  Your wife--
Bradley (dropping bottle).  What?  What about her--hurt?
Mrs. Perkins.  Worse!  [Sobs.
Bradley.  Killed?
Mrs. Perkins.  Worse--l-lol-locked up--in jail--no bail--wants to be
lamped out.
Bradley.  Great heavens!  Where?--when?  What next?  Where's my hat?--
what'll the baby say?  I must go to her at once.
Yardsley.  Hold on, old man.  Let me go up.  You're too excited.  I
know the police captain.  You stay here, and I'll run up and fix it
with him.  If you go, he'll find out who Mrs. Hawkins is; you'll get
mad, and things will be worse than ever.
Bradley.  But--
Barlow.  No buts, my dear boy.  You just stay where you are.
Yardsley's right.  It would be an awful grind on you if this ever
became known.  Bob can fix it up in two minutes with the captain, and
Mrs. Bradley can come right back with him.  Besides, he can get there
in five minutes on his wheel.  It will take you twenty on the cars.
Yardsley.  Precisely.  Meanwhile, Brad, you'd better learn to ride
the wheel, so that Mrs. B. won't have to ride alone.  This ought to
be a lesson to you.
Perkins.  Bully idea (rubbing his ankle).  You can use my wheel to-
night--I--I think I've had enough for the present.  (Aside.)  The
pavements aren't soft enough for me; and, O Lord! what a stony curb
that was!
Bradley.  I never thought I'd get so low.
Yardsley.  Well, it seems to me that a man with a wife in jail
needn't be too stuck up to ride a bicycle.  But--by-by--I'm off.
[Exit.
Mrs. Perkins.  Poor Emma--out for freedom, and lands in jail.  What
horrid things policemen are, to arrest a woman!
Bradley (indignantly).  Served her right!  If women won't obey the
law they ought to be arrested, the same as men.  If she wasn't my
wife, I'd like to see her sent up for ten years or even twenty years.
Women have got no business--
Barlow.  Don't get mad, Brad.  If you knew the fascination of the
wheel you wouldn't blame her a bit.
Bradley (calming down).  Well--I suppose it has some fascination.
Perkins (anxious to escape further lessons).  Oh, indeed, it's a most
exhilarating sensation:  you seem to be flying like a bird over the
high-ways.  Try it, Ned.  Go on, right away.  You don't know how that
little ride I had braced me up.
Barlow (wish a laugh).  There!  Hear that!  There's a man who's
ridden only eight inches in all his life--and he says he felt like a
bird!
Perkins (aside).  Yes--like a spring chicken split open for broiling.
Next time I ride a wheel it'll be four wheels, with a horse fastened
in front.  Oh my! oh my!  I believe I've broken my back too.  [Lies
down.
Bradley.  You seem to be exhilarated, Thaddeus.
Perkins (bracing up).  Oh, I am, I am.  Never felt worse--that is,
better.
Barlow.  Come on, Brad.  I'll show you the trick in two jiffies--
it'll relieve your worry about madam, too.
Bradley.  Very well--I suppose there's no way out of it.  Only let me
know as soon as Emma arrives, will you?
Mrs. Perkins.  Yes--we will.
[They go out.  As they disappear through the door Thaddeus groans
aloud.
Mrs. Perkins.  Why--what is the matter, dear?  Are you hurt?
Perkins.  Oh no--not at all, my love.  I was only thinking of Mr.
Jarley's indignation to-morrow when he sees the hole I made in his
curb-stone with my ankle--oh!--ow!--and as for my back, while I don't
think the whole spine is gone, I shouldn't be surprised if it had
come through in sections.
Mrs. Perkins.  Why, you poor thing--why didn't you say--
Perkins (savagely).  Why didn't I say?  My heavens, Bess, what did
you think I wanted the Pond's Extract for--to drink, or to water the
street with?  O Lord! (holding up his arm).  There aren't any ribs
sticking out, are there?
Barlow (outside).  The other way--there--that's it--you've got it.
Bradley (outside).  Why, it _is_ easy, isn't it?
Perkins (scornfully).  Easy!  That fellow'd find comfort in--
Barlow (outside).  Now you're off--not too fast.
Mrs. Perkins (walking to window).  Why, Thaddeus, he's going like the
wind down the street!
Perkins.  Heaven help him when he comes to the river!
Barlow (rushing in).  Here we are in trouble again.  Brad's gone off
on my wheel.  Bob's taken his, and your tire's punctured.  He doesn't
know the first thing about turning or stopping, and I can't run fast
enough to catch him.  One member of the family is in jail--the other
on a runaway wheel!
[Yardsley appears at door.  Assumes attitude of butler announcing
guest.
Yardsley.  Missus Willerby 'Awkins!
Enter Mrs. Bradley, hysterical.
Mrs. Bradley.  Oh, Edward!
[Throws herself into Barlow's arms.
Barlow (quietly).  Excuse me--ah--Mrs. Hawkins--ah--Bradley--but I'm
not--I'm not your husband.
Mrs. Bradley (looking up, tragically).  Where's Edward?
Mrs. Perkins.  Sit down, dear--you must be completely worn out.
Mrs. Bradley (in alarm).  Where is he?
Perkins (rising and standing on one leg).  Fact is, Mrs. Bradley--we
don't know.  He disappeared ten minutes ago.
Yardsley.  What do you mean?
Mrs. Bradley.  Disappeared?
Barlow.  Yes.  He went east--at the rate of about a mile a minute.
Mrs. Bradley.  My husband--went east?  Mile a minute?
Perkins.  Yes, on a bike.  Yardsley, take me by the shawl-strap, will
you, and help me over to that chair; my back hurts so I can't lie
down.
Mrs. Bradley.  Ned--on a wheel?  Why, he can't ride!
Barlow.  Oh yes, he can.  What I'm afraid of is that he can't stop
riding.
Bradley (outside).  Hi--Barlow--help!
Mrs. Bradley.  That's his voice--he called for help.
Yardsley (rushing to window).  Hi--Brad--stop!  Your wife's here.
Bradley (in distance).  Can't stop--don't know how--
Barlow (leaning out of window).  By Jove! he's turned the corner all
right.  If he keeps on around, we can catch him next time he passes.
Mrs. Bradley.  Oh, do, do stop him.  I'm so afraid he'll be hurt.
Mrs. Perkins (looking out).  I can just see him on the other side of
the square--and, oh dear me!--_his_ lamp is out.
Mrs. Bradley.  Oh, Mr. Yardsley--Mr. Barlow--Mr. Perkins--do stop
him!
[By this time all are gazing out of window, except Perkins, who is
nursing his ankle.
Perkins.  I guess not.  I'm not going to lie down in the road, or sit
in the road, or stand in the road to stop him or anybody else.  I
don't believe I've got a sound bone left; but if I have, I'm going to
save it, if Bradley kills himself.  If his lamp's out the police will
stop him.  Why not be satisfied with that?
Bradley (passing the window).  For Heaven's sake! one of you fellows
stop me.
Yardsley.  Put on the brake.
Barlow.  Fall off.  It hasn't got a brake.
Bradley (despairingly, in distance).  Can't.
Mrs. Perkins.  This is frightful.
Perkins (with a grimace at his ankle).  Yes; but there are other
fearful things in this world.
Mrs. Bradley.  I shall go crazy if he isn't stopped.  He'll kill
himself.
Yardsley (leaving window hurriedly).  I have it.  Got a length of
clothes-line, Mrs. Perkins?
Barlow.  What the dickens--
Mrs. Perkins.  Yes.
[She rushes from the room.
Mrs. Bradley.  What for?
Yardsley.  I'll lasso him, next time he comes around.
Perkins (with a grin).  There'll be two of us!  We can start a
hospital on the top floor.
Mrs. Perkins (returning).  Here--here's the line.
[Yardsley takes it hurriedly, and, tying it into a noose, hastens
out.
Perkins (rising).  If I never walk again, I must see this.  [Limps to
window.
Mrs. Bradley.  He's coming, Mr. Yardsley; don't miss him.
Barlow.  Steady, Bob; get in the light.
Mrs. Perkins.  Suppose it catches his neck?
Perkins.  This beats the Wild West Show.
[A crash.
All.  He's got him.
[All rush out, except Perkins.
Perkins.  Oh yes; he learned in a minute, he did.  Easy!  Ha, ha!
Gad! it almost makes me forget my pain.
Enter all, asking.  "Is he hurt?  How do you feel?" etc.  Yardsley
has rope-end in right hand; noose is tied about Bradley's body, his
coat and clothing are much the worse for wear.
Mrs. Bradley.  Poor, dear Edward!
Bradley (weakly kissing her).  Don't m-mind me.  I--I'm all right--
only a little exhilarated--and somewhat--er--somewhat breathless.
Feel like a bird--on toast.  Yardsley, you're a brick.  But that
pavement--that was a pile of 'em, and the hardest I ever encountered.
I always thought asphalt was soft--who said asphalt was soft?
Perkins.  Easy to learn, though, eh?
Bradley.  Too easy.  I'd have gone on--er--forever--er--if it hadn't
been for Bob.
Mrs. Bradley.  I'll give it up, Ned dear, if you say so.
Mrs. Perkins (affectionately).  That's sweet of you, Emma.
Bradley.  No, indeed, you won't, for--er--I--I rather like it while
it's going on, and when I learn to get off--
Yardsley.  Which you will very shortly.
Barlow.  You bet! he's a dandy.  I taught him.
Bradley.  I think I'll adore it.
Perkins.  Buy a Czar wheel, Brad.  Best in the market; weighs only
twenty pounds.  I've got one with a ki-yi pump and a pneumatic gun
you can have for ten dollars.
Jennie (at the door).  Supper is served ma'am.  [Exit.
Mrs. Perkins.  Let us go out and restore our nerves.  Come, Emma.
[She and Mrs. Bradley walk out.
Yardsley (aside).  I say, Brad, you owe me five.
Bradley.  What for?
Yardsley.  Bail.
Barlow.  Cheap too.
Yardsley.  Very.  I think he ought to open a bottle besides.
Perkins.  I'll attend to the bottles.  We'll have three.
Barlow.  Two will be enough.
Perkins.  Three--two of fizz for you and Bob and the ladies, and if
Bradley will agree, I'll split a quart of Pond's Extract with him.
Bradley.  I'll go you.  I think I could take care of the whole quart
myself.
Perkins.  Then we'll make it four bottles.
Mrs. Perkins (appearing at door with her arm about Mrs. Bradley).
Aren't you coming?
Perkins (rising with difficulty).  As fast as we can, my dear.  We've
been taking lessons, you know, and can't move as rapidly as the rest
of you.  We're a trifle--ah--a trifle tired.  Yardsley, you tow
Bradley into the dining room; and, Barlow, kindly pretend I'm a
shawl, will you, and carry me in.
Bradley.  I'll buy a wheel to-morrow.
Perkins.  Don't, Brad.  I--I'll give you mine.  Fact is, old man, I
don't exactly like feeling like a bird.
[They go out, and as the last, Perkins and Bradley, disappear stiffly
through the portieres, the curtain falls.

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