his sentence; but the break
was significant. And the soldiers closed in to separate the alleged George
Smith from his companions of the car, lest at the last moment they should
attempt a rescue.

"We'll make them sorry for this, George," said Dick. "But as we really
can't do much for you here, we'll get on somewhere else, where we can."

"I must ask also for the name of the owner of this automobile, and for
that of his chauffeur," insisted the sergeant, "before I can let you go."

"Oh, all right," said Dick, crossly, producing his passport, and cards
with the names of the papers for which he had engaged to correspond.
"Ropes, fork out your credentials."

The chauffeur brought forth his French papers, and pointed to the name of
Peter Ropes. The sergeant industriously wrote down everything in his
note-book, a greasy and forbidding one.

"It is satisfactory," he said with dignity; "you can proceed, senores."

The engine had not been stopped during the scene; and as the gentleman in
the grey coat was marched off to the guard-house with a jostling Spanish
crowd at his heels, the red car in which he had lately been a passenger
slipped away and left him behind.

Through the streets of Irun it passed at funeral pace, as if in respect
and regret for a friend who was lost; but once out in the green,
undulating country beyond, it put on a great spurt of speed, after the
chauffeur had scrambled into the front seat.

"Great Scott, but I'm as hot as if I'd come out of a Turkish bath,"
growled Dick.

"It was a warm ten minutes," said I. "Poor old Ropes--bless him!" And I
sent back a sigh of gratitude to the staunch friend in my grey overcoat,
cap, goggles, and gloves, to whose loyalty I owed freedom.

VIII

OVER THE BORDER

Here I was in Spain, my Spain--thanks to Ropes; and, again thanks to him,
probably out of danger from Carmona's suspicions for some time to come,
barring accidents.

He would make inquiries at Irun when he arrived there, and learning that
the obnoxious person had been detained according to information received
from him, would pass on triumphantly. Even when fate brought his car and
ours together, as I hoped it often would, a sight of the two remaining
travellers, the American automobilist and his hideously-goggled chauffeur,
would cause him amusement rather than uneasiness.

He would say to himself that, so far as he was concerned, no harm had been
do