From the stationer's he went to an ironmonger's and bought a saw, a brace, a gimlet, a screw-driver and two gross of screws--his tool-box had long needed refilling.

Then they mounted their machines proudly (they had learned to ride on the machines of acquaintances) and rode home.

After their visit to the confectioner's they rode rather sluggishly.
They were not hungry, far from it, at the moment; but half-way home the Terror turned out of the main road into the lanes, and they paused at a quiet orchard, in a lovely unguarded spot, and filled the cat-basket on Erebus' bicycle with excellent apples.

The tools had been packed into the Terror's basket.

They did not disturb the farmer's wife at the busy dinner-hour; the Terror threw the apples over the orchard hedge to Erebus.
As he remembered his bicycle he said dreamily: "I shouldn't wonder if these bicycles didn't pay for themselves in time." "I said there were orchards out here where they didn't know us," said Erebus, biting into a Ribston pippin.
They reached home in time for lunch and locked away their bicycles in the cow-house.