"Well, she can't help it, being a woman, I suppose. But we'll manage. Do you know the man?"
"Never saw him before to-day, when he tried to run me down. Guess he doesn't know much about motor-cycles. But come on, dad. He may bleed to death."
Father and son hurried to where the stranger lay. As they bent over him he opened his eyes and asked faintly:
"Where am I? What happened?"
"You're all right—in good hands," said Mr. Swift. "Are you much hurt?"
"Not much—mostly stunned, I guess. What happened?" he repeated.
"You and your motor-cycle tried to climb a tree," remarked Tom with grim humor.
"Oh, yes, I remember now. I couldn't seem to steer out of the way. And I couldn't shut off the power in time. Is the motor-cycle much damaged?"
"The front wheel is," reported Tom, after an inspection, "and there are some other breaks, but I guess"
"I wish it was all smashed!" exclaimed the man vigorously. "I never want to see it again!"
"Why, don't you like it?" asked Tom eagerly.
"No, and I never will," the man spoke faintly but determinedly.
