"I don't want to do it!" he said.

"You have to. It's either that or nothing!"

"Its nothing then.

"But think of all the money we could make! We could do up the tree-hut for a start, get new bikes ... live it up!"

"Our parents would ask us where we got all the extra money!"

"We'd do it gradually, so they'd think we were saving our pocket-money. Come on Albin. This is our big chance!"

"Well...?"

………………………..

Groundhog pedaled slowly down the street. He had to. The bag on the bag of his bike was heavy. He hoped the back tire would hold. It bulged out flat on each side of the rim, like it was ready to pop.

"Stop going over all the bumps!" said Albin from inside the bag.

"I'm not!" said Groundhog, "Anyway, I can't help it."

"Yes you can!"

"I can't steer the bike with you on the back! Its real hard to keep it straight!"

"How close arc we?"

"Last street before the railway. You'll have to shut up now!"

Albin shut up. He was squashed and uncomfortable inside the old leather bag. The ropes which helped hold him on the carrier were cutting into his legs. He tried to shift his hands but the constant lurching and swerving of the bicycle made it a dangerous proposition. Most of his weight rested on his knees, which were pointing in the direction Groundhog was pedaling. Everything hurt.

"I can't take much more!" whispered Albin.

"Only a few more seconds!"

"Please get it over with!"

"Shhhhh!"