Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1960's

FICTION: lillY's Metercycle Had a Mind of It's Own - Bat the Guys who Stole THE MOTORCYCLE THIEF j by' Cbarles Clayton WuslraUons by Jon Dahlstrom THE races went Q.uickly and by mid-aftemoon Willy had a cameraful of action pictures for the magazine. He felt curiously satisfied as Terry wheeled the VW into the traffic stream and headed for the city. "I've been thinking," Terry said after a while, "About what you said about locking up a motorcycle being the same as locking up a wife." "Well, I didn't mean it exactly like that. There's a difference, I guess." • No, you were right. I feel damned selfish about keeping that Gold Star "Take me to my hotel. It's time I was moving on. You know where to reach me when the bike turns uP." "I wish I could make you stay a little longer... Hey, what's that up ahead? An accident?" "Looks like." Terry pulled to the curb. "What happened?" he asked a pedestrian. "Motorcycle hit a car. obody hurt, but the motorcycle feller ran away." Before the words were Q.uite finished Willy was out of the car and loping through the cruious onlookers to the center of interest. There it lay in a pool of gasoline in the basement•.• In the dungeon, as it were. If you'd like to use it... I'll be your sponsor, as it were." "Well, that's damn nice of you to offer, Terry." Willy said gratefully. "B ut I have a feeling my bike is on its way back to me." "How do you know that?" "Just a feeling I have." Willy laughed." When you've been' married' to a motorcycle as long as I have you get so you can kinda sense its moods." "Well, I guess I'll just have to start riding again myseif," Terry decided. ·Why not?," chortled Willy, and they both laughed. . "Let' you off downtown?" Terry inQ.uired when they reached the city limits. "Or would you like to come home and have a few beers?" and shame. Willy's wanton motorcycle. Tenderly he picked it up and found it more the worse from disguising than from the accident. But he knew its pride was hurt and he wheele d it to the curb a way from curious eyes. Terry came up and took the situation in at a glance. "Better leave it here, Will. The police are on the way." ARNIE limped as far from- the scene of the accident as he could and caught a bus to Pete's garage. He dared not go home. They would trace the license number and come after him. He was lucky to be alive, the way that crazy motorcycle had propelled him into the car, as if it had a will of its own, bent on his destruction. But that isn't possible, Arnie told himself. Motorcycles don't I It Dldn'l Kaow That have minds of their own. He was shook up from the collision, that's all. He wasn't thinking straight. Pete glanced up from his grindstone as.Arnie limped into the garage. "Oh it's you. Look what I just copped: a new Bonneville. Snatched it slick as you please behind Lucy's Cafe. The sucker had it locked all right, but I snapped the lock like that." He snapped his fingers, then the expression on his friend's face sunk in. "Hey, I didn't hear you ride up. What happened to you?" "I had au accident. Had to light out and leave the cycle there." . "What? With your plate and all?" "Yeah. I'll have to stay with you for a while. They won't find me here." "That's what you think!" Pete snarled. "Don't you remember you were staying with me when you bought that bike last year? You gave this address on your registration!" Arnie's face, already pale, went white. "That's right! What are we gonna do?" • I don't know about you, but I'm cutting out!," exclaimed Pete, firing up the Bonneville. "But what about me?" Arnie whined. "That's your problem. I done all I can for you." Pete gunned the engine and let out the clutch. Suddenly Arnie heard a double sQ.ueal of tires the car screeching to a halt. blocking the garage door, and the Bonneville stopping just short of the big white star on the side of the police cruiser. - finis -

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