As we waited, the Fascist came up on his bicycle.

“Wait,” the bicycle man shouted from behind the car.

You can’t fire me because I’ve got down off my bicycle.

He held the middle of the road on his bicycle and we turned out for him.

In a pursuit race, in bicycle racing, riders start at equal intervals to ride after one another.

On the flat road we passed a Fascist riding a bicycle, a heavy revolver in a holster on his back.

As soon as a rider is caught and passed he is out of the race and must get down from his bicycle and leave the track.