Hard riding, rain and the consequent exposure had got in its work upon me by the time we struck Marshalltown, but on the 19th, in spite of the advice of physicians, I started our party, being aided in the carrying of luggage by Mr. Ferguson, who remained with us. At 4:30 o'clock on the afternoon of April 19 we pedaled into Des Moines, the capital of Iowa. The dime museum man was on the alert for us, and we had been in the Kirk wood Hotel scarcely half an hour before my wife and I were offered $25 an hour each, for four hours' exhibition of ourselves. It is a waste of ink to say that the offer was declined without thanks. Our night in Des Moines was the most comfortable we had yet spent. The following day we were entertained at the State House by Governor and Mrs. Jackson and Private Secretary Richards. The Governor is a hearty believer in better roads and he is an admirer of cycling. He expressed sincere admiration for the world's tour awheel, and declared his admiration for the Inter Ocean in furthering such a project. The Des Moines Wheel Club entertained us lavishly in the evening, though while at the club house the tour of the globe was menaced with sudden termination. The brand of Marshalltown fever, which I carried away with me, was such that a physician ordered me promptly to bed. The sun, I am confident, was responsible for my condition. We had been out of Chicago ten days, and two-thirds of the distance was done over railroad beds. We had journeyed almost 300 miles over ties and trestles, suffering intermittently with paralysis of the hands. Often we were compelled to ride along a narrow shelf scarcely 12 inches in width just outside the track and ballast, where the slightest deviation from the course would have caused a plunge down an embankment frequently 30 feet deep. This, too, was accomplished upon a heavy laden wheel with the glare of the burnished steel in our eyes. My physician's advice was that I remain for several days in Des Moines, but anxiety to reach the coast moved me to depart Sunday, April 21. Fifty cyclists rode out of town with us and saw us fairly upon our hilly ride to Council Bluffs. Bad weather was encountered, delaying our arrival in Council Bluffs until April 23. Wheelmen from Omaha and Council Bluffs awaited us upon the outskirts of the latter named city, and in triumph we rolled into that splendid center of the Republic--Omaha. Here we found that the veteran Jack Prince had stirred much enthusiasm in wheeling, and a banquet at the "Pump House" was the first of the chain of entertainment in store. The "Pump House," it should be known, is a handsomely appointed club house under the patronage of the Omaha Wheel Club. Its name is derived from a large pneumatic pump which stands invitingly to all cyclists outside of the main entrance. Our stay in Omaha was pleasant and, from our selfish standpoint, only too brief. When we started away the afternoon of April 25, a pretty surprise and compliment was Mrs. McIlrath's when she found her wheel literally one of gorgeous flowers. Since we left Chicago no larger crowd has wished us good-bye than the one in Omaha. Our friend Ferguson left us here, stubbornly refusing to bear back with him our cargo of souvenir spoons. These precious mementos are all very well in their way, but hardly the thing for two persons who intend pedaling their way over the world. We were already threatened with having to charge ourselves excess baggage. Lincoln, the capital of the state, turned out almost to a man to receive us. The Capital City Cycling Club escorted us on our visit to Governor Holcomb, to whom we presented a letter of introduction. It was through the kindness of the Governor that we visited the State University, and with him we attended the theater in the evening.