George A. Birmingham

“ Dick, "the police are experts at repairing bicycles. One of the people we met last week told me that. He was an inspector of something, and was always going about the country, so he'd be sure to know."
"In any case," said Mr. Sanders, "there isn't likely to be a police barrack about here. There are no houses. We haven't passed a single human habitation for the last twenty minutes." ”

“ The idea of bathing in cold water was delightful.
"We'll have a swim," he said. "First we'll knock up the proprietor, borrow the repair outfit, and mend the tyre. Then we'll go round the corner, out of sight of the house, and wallow in the briny wave."
But Mr. Sanders was cautious, more cautious than he had been about drinking the water out of the pool.
"You've no towel," he said.
"What do we care for towels? We are primitive men, savages on our native wild, cave dwellers of the paleolithic age. I should spurn a towel if it was offered me."
"That's all very well for you, Dick ”

“ Mr. Sanders shrank from such a fate. Also he had sat down during the discussion and felt rested. He agreed to go on. Mr. Dick, the Berseker spirit strong in him, wheeled both bicycles. They climbed a long hill and found walking even hotter work than bicycling. But they had their reward. From the top of the hill the entrance gate and the trees of Rosivera were visible.
"A sail, a sail!" cried Mr. Dick. "We are saved! ”

“ His desire was to get as quickly as possible into the sea. He undressed beside a large stone which lay just above high-water mark. Then his troubles began. He had never before walked on such trying stones. The pain which they gave his feet caused him to stumble and fall suddenly forward on his hands. ”