Between Cosden and Billy Huntington the breach had become well-defined during the past twenty-four hours. Up to this time the boy had considered him merely as an unsympathetic personality, whose advice to his uncle frequently made the task of carrying his point more difficult; but as the point was always eventually carried Billy had borne him no permanent ill-will. Cosden looked upon him as a spoiled child, to be punished frequently on general principles just for the good of the service. Now, however, affairs assumed a different footing: the boy, jealous of the passing moments which brought the sailing of the “Arcadian” nearer at hand, regarded the older man’s action in joining in the walk to Elba Beach as a distinct intrusion; while Cosden, unconsciously applying his familiar business principles, deliberately determined to eliminate the possible competition of a diverting influence by exhibiting to the “prospect” a superior line of samples. Not that he really considered Billy worthy of such serious attention, but he was exercising that precaution which more than once had saved him from committing a business mistake.

Merry Thatcher was not unaware of the relations which existed between the two, even though Cosden’s present viewpoint was naturally unknown to her. Billy had been particularly frank in his expressions the evening before, and as they started off that morning he found opportunity to paint his feelings in vivid colorings. Considering the situation as amusing rather than serious, she held herself as a neutral observer.

When it became evident that Cosden was in earnest in his suggestion to accompany them, Billy was seized with an inspiration.

“What kind of bike do you ride, Mr. Cosden?” he asked, stopping in front of the bicycle-shed of the “Princess.”

“Bike?” Cosden echoed. “I thought we were going to walk.”

“Oh, no!” Billy assured him with confidence. “It’s too far for Merry to hike it along the pavements, and these roads are bully for wheels.”

“All right,” Cosden assented without further hesitation. “I haven’t ridden for some time, but I guess I haven’t forgotten how.”

“You know it’s pretty tricky, riding down here in Bermuda,” Billy cautioned him. “You have to turn out to the left, and all that sort of thing.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Cosden answered with decision, recognizing what was in the boy’s mind. “You go ahead and get the wheels.”

Billy’s glance at Merry as Cosden turned aside to say a word to Huntington was most expressive, and he managed to speak with her in an undertone before the older man rejoined them.

“The big stiff!” he ejaculated. “I hope he takes a header on this first hill! You know how to ride, don’t you?”

Merry’s laughing nod reassured him. “Yes,” she said; “it will be loads of fun!”

“Great! then let’s tear things up a bit, and give him a run for his money.”

Huntington stepped up with Cosden as the negro boy brought out the wheels.

“So you’re going back to first principles, Connie?” he asked. “It must have been you who suggested bicycles.”

“No; Billy wants to show me a thing or two about riding.”

“Show you!” Huntington laughed. “You’ll have your hands full, my boy, riding with him. Why, he won everything in sight in the bicycle-races on the Mott Haven team when he was in college. He was as good as a professional then, and I don’t believe he’s forgotten it all yet. Throw out your chest, Connie, and let the lady admire your medals.”

Billy’s face fell, and he looked at Merry dubiously. “Let’s walk,” he said.

“No, you don’t!” Cosden insisted. “This was your idea, and now we’ll see it through. Come on.”

There was a complete reversal in the boy’s spirits. The way Cosden handled the wheel showed clearly enough that bicycle-riding was second nature to him, and Billy’s interest in the trip had obviously waned. But Merry had already mounted and was starting on behind Cosden, so nothing remained for him but to follow. Down past the tennis-courts, out onto Front Street, winding through the closely-packed buildings of the town itself, past Parliament House and Pembroke Hall, with its magnificent group of Royal Palms, then around the harbor, they soon found themselves riding between gardens and great trees on either side, which protected the coraline houses, with their curious tiled roofs, from the glare of the sun and the inquisitive gaze of the passers-by.

“Can you take that hill without dismounting?” Cosden challenged Merry, as they approached a steep rise in the road.

“Try me!” she answered gaily.

“Oh, what’s the use in tiring Merry all out?” Billy protested. “This isn’t an endurance test; we’re out for fun.”

“We’ll wait for you,” the girl taunted him laughingly, and the two shot ahead for the hill. The boy muttered something about Mr. Cosden which undoubtedly would have been much to the point had it been heard, and pedaled hard to make up for their start, but he reached the top of the incline in considerably poorer condition than either of the others.

“Whew!” Billy puffed, “let’s stop a minute; there’s a dandy view from here.”

“Shall we rest?” Cosden asked Merry.

“Not on my account,” she replied unhelpfully. “I’m perfectly fresh, and the ride is exhilarating.”

“Then it would be a pity to be held back by Billy’s inexperience,” Cosden commented, glancing at him with a malicious smile. “On, on to Elba Beach!”

The boy managed nearly to keep up with them for the balance of the distance, but was quite ready to throw himself on the ground when they arrived at their destination.

“Those are the ‘boilers,’ Billy,” Merry announced to him, as they found the expanse of sea spread out before them, with the curious coral atols in the foreground, around which the water seethed.

“Nothing that boils interests me in the least,” was the unenthusiastic reply. “Lead me to an ice-chest and I’ll give it the bunny-hug. Say, Mr. Cosden, you are some rider, aren’t you? And Merry is no slouch!”

“I’m glad you suggested the change,” Cosden said. “I have underrated your headwork, my boy.”

“You certainly ride mighty well for a man your age, doesn’t he, Merry?” Billy continued with apparent good humor, but, aggravated to a point of impertinence by the patronizing attitude, he determined to break even with his tormentor. “Your wind is good, and the way you pedaled up that hill made me forget that you were old enough to be my father. You’re mighty well preserved, aren’t you?”

Cosden was nettled. “Your idea of age needs some revision,” he retorted sharply. “If I were to figure things the same way, I would suggest that the next time you come to Elba Beach you use an automobile perambulator instead of a bicycle. Now let’s call it quits.”

“They don’t allow automobiles down here,” Billy corrected seriously. “That’s one reason why I came. I never want to see a buzz-wagon again.”

“Skid, collision, run-over, smash-up ” Merry began helpfully.

“No worse still,” Billy rejoined slowly, evidently surveying the past in his mind. “Say, Phil was in this, too.”

“Phil?” the girl echoed anxiously. “He wasn’t hurt, was he?”

“No, not hurt exactly; but we both had the shivers all right, and the more I think it over the less of a joke it seems to me. You see, Bud Warner has a crackerjack car, and he asked Phil and me to dash out with him one afternoon. The first thing we knew he turned in at a place out in Belmont, rode to the front door, and went on in to fuss a dame there that he’s been rushing. Well, Phil and I cooled our heels half an hour waiting for him and then we thought we’d get even by giving him the slip, for it was a good two miles’ walk to the cars and Bud is no bear as a walker. We slid out with the motor all right, but just before we reached Harvard Square a wise-guy cop pinched us for stealing the car, and ran us both in.”

“Arrested you for stealing?” Merry demanded.

“Surest thing you know,” Billy confirmed. “When Bud found we’d slipped him, he was sore, and to get even he telephoned the police-station, gave them the number of the car, and said it had been stolen. Oh! we were in bad, for fair.”

“And Uncle Monty far from home,” commented Cosden.

“Yes,” Billy admitted; “I didn’t know it at the time or I should have been still more peeved. Well we stayed there in the cooler for two hours when Bud showed up and was brought in where we were. He gave us the once over, and acted as if he’d never seen us before in all his young life. ’I couldn’t have believed it of such respectable-looking young men,’ he said, the darned hypocrite! ’I couldn’t send them to State’s prison,’ said he, ‘on account of their families.’ Then he made an imitation like thinking, and finally he said, ’Officer, I withdraw the charge of theft, but ask you to hold the prisoners for exceeding the speed limit. What’s the bail? I’ll help them out for the sake of their families.’ So he bailed us out, and we went back together, with Bud thinking he’d played us a fine, swell joke.”

“Did you jump your bail?” Merry inquired, thoroughly amused.

“No; we didn’t dare. We came up before the judge next morning, and it cost us ten bones apiece and costs. That’s what made me so short on my Christmas money.”

“I’ll guarantee you found some way to get around that,” Cosden said, suggestively egging him on to display his youthfulness.

Billy grinned. “I had to,” he admitted. “I thought I could get some money from Uncle Monty, but he had gone away, so I had Mother’s present charged to Father, and Father’s present charged to Mother.”

“Frenzied finance!” cried Cosden, amused in spite of his desire to disparage the boy. “You are wasting your time in college; you should be in Wall Street.”

“Your advice ought to be good, Mr. Cosden,” agreed Billy, “for you certainly know how to make your money work overtime. I can always tell when Uncle Monty gives me any of the tired cash he wins out of you from the gratitude it shows for getting a little rest.”

Cosden did not like Billy’s come-backs, and he did not like the amusement which he saw restrained in Merry’s face. Still, he accepted the responsibility in large measure for putting himself on the boy’s level.

“I’d like to have charge of your business education,” he said significantly.

“It may come to that,” the boy said with a total lack of enthusiasm. “That’s the one real threat Uncle Monty always holds over me.”

“You are impertinent ” Cosden realized that the ragging was going too far.

“Who began it?” was the retort.

“Who is going to invite me to have some strawberries and cream?” Merry interrupted, feeling it to be her mission to come to the rescue, and recognizing Billy’s mistake in antagonizing so close a friend of his uncle.

Billy was on his feet in an instant, but Cosden was ahead of him.

“I know the place,” Merry said. “You see, I’m the old settler here, so I’ll show you all the attractions. Think of strawberries and cream in January! Won’t you go ahead of us, Mr. Cosden, and ask the boy to put a table out on the piazza? It will be lovely there.”

As Cosden moved out of earshot she turned to her companion.

“You must not upset him like that, Billy,” she reproved him firmly; “your uncle will never forgive you.”

“He has no right to butt in on us,” the boy protested gloomily.

“But he’s here, and you must be civil to him. Think how much older he is than you are, and you’re quarreling with him as if he were your own age.”

“Oh, I’ll be civil to him if he’ll only can his grouch. Why, he got sore with me for kidding him about his age, yet you noticed how old he is yourself.”

“He isn’t old, Billy. Why, he’s younger than Mr. Huntington, isn’t he?”

“Perhaps he is; but Uncle Monty always makes you feel that he’s your own age. I never think of him any differently than I do of any of my other pals. But Mr. Cosden ugh!”

“I know, Billy; but you don’t want to say anything that will queer you with your uncle, do you?”

Billy looked at her quizzically before he replied, then his broad, good-natured grin replaced the frown.

“I get you, Stevie what’s the feminine for Steve, anyhow? You mean that a fellow ought not to make pate de foie gras out of the goose that lays the golden eggs. Say, Merry, you’re wonderful, you are, simply wonderful!”