With some consternation I read a letter that Tom had been taken ill at Llanberis, near the end of his tour (on August 9^th).  He came home last Friday and was unfit for riding – or even leaving the house.  I thought he was in bed, so off I hiked to his place.  The weather was bad – I started inside the cape – and being unwilling to face that towny fourteen miles of setts to his place, I decided on a roundabout route.  From Walkden, I passed through Worsley to Patricroft, where I turned for Salford, and after going many miles out of my way, I came to Salford Docks and Stretford road.  It had now ceased raining, but soon after leaving Piccadilly, a deluge came on, and I arrived at his house inside the cape again.

I was delighted to see that he was up and about, and after changing my saturated footgear, we fell to talking of experiences.  It is wonderful the amount of interesting things a cyclist can speak of, and his tour was packed with such interest, and he had so many photographs to show me, that the time passed all too quickly.  Tea passed pleasantly enough, and at 8pm I started back.  Again reaching Piccadilly, I passed down Deansgate, and under Blackfriars Bridge, heading for Pendleton.  I lit up near Clifton, between which town and Kearsley all lights were out, and so black was the night that I had much to do to keep in the roadway!  My ‘two bob Lucas’ was no use, of course, it is only a ‘Bobby Dodger’.  At Black Horse, a terrific rainstorm came on, and I finished the ride home with a tough struggle against the wind and rain inside my cape.                                      32 miles