made up his mind what to do. Even then his procedure
luckily lacked decision.

"Beg pardon, sir--!" he began, making a step towards me.

"Good evening!" I shouted, and the next instant the engine had started,
and I was in my saddle.

Even then my pursuer had got up so much speed that he must surely have
caught me had he not stopped to make inquiry of my late acquaintance.
I was rounding a corner at the moment, and so was able to glance over
my shoulder and see what was happening. The cyclist was then in the
act of remounting, and I noted that he was in very dark clothes. It
might or might not have been a uniform, but I fancied it was. Anyhow,
I felt peculiarly little enthusiasm for making his acquaintance.

On I sped, working rapidly up to forty miles an hour, and quite
careless now of any little sensation I might cause. I had sensations
myself, and did not grudge them to other people. The road quickly left
the coast and turned directly inland, and presently it began to wind
along the edge of a long reedy stretch of water, with a steep bank
above it on the other side. The windings gave me several chances of
catching a glimpse of my pursuer, and I saw that I was gaining nothing;
in fact, if anything he was overhauling me.

"I'll try them!" I said to myself.

"Them" were nails. Wiedermann had done me no more than justice in
assuming I had come well provided against possible contingencies. Each
of my side-pockets had a little packet of large-headed, sharp-pointed
nails. I had several times thrown them experimentally on the floor of
my cabin, and found that a gratifying number lay point upwards. I
devoutly prayed they would behave as reasonably now.

This stretch of road was ideal for their use--narrow, and with not a
house to give succour or a spectator to witness such a very suspicious
performance, I threw a handful behind me, and at the next turn of the
road glanced round to see results. The man was still going strong. I
threw another handful and then a third, but after that the road ran
straight for a space, and it was only when it bent to the right round
the head of the loch that I was able to see him again. He had stopped
far back, and was examining his tyres.

The shadows by this time were growing long, but there were still some
hours before darkness would really shelter me, and in the meantime what
was I to do with myself, and where to turn? Judging from the long time
that had elapsed betwee