me in that
fashion," said he quietly.

Simmonds positively jumped when he heard his name. He wheeled round,
raised his cap, and broke into stuttering excuse.

"I beg your lordship's pardon--I hadn't the least notion----"

These two had not met since they discussed Boer trenches and British
generals during a momentary halt on the Tugela slope of Spion Kop.
Medenham remembered the fact, and forgave a good deal on account of
it.

"I have seen you look far less worried under a plunging fire from a
pom-pom," he said cheerily. "Now, what is it? Wires out of order?"

"No, my lord. That wouldn't bother me very long. It's a regular smash
this time--transmission shaft snapped."

"Why?"

"I was run into by a railway van, and forced against a street refuge."

"Well, if it was not your fault----"

"Oh, I can claim damages right enough. I have plenty of witnesses.
Even the driver of the van could only say that one of his horses
slipped. It's the delay I'm jibbing at. I hate to disappoint my
customers, and this accident may cost me three hundred pounds, and a
business of my own into the bargain."

"By gad! That sounds rather stiff. What's the hurry?"

"This is my own car, my lord. Early in the spring I was lucky enough
to fall in with a rich American. I was driving for a company then, but
he offered me three hundred pounds, money down, for a three months'
contract. Straightaway I bought this car for five hundred, and it is
half paid for. Now the same gentleman writes from Paris that I am to
take his daughter and another lady on a thousand miles' run for ten
days, and he says he is prepared to hire me and the car for the
balance of another period of three months on the same terms."

"But the ladies will be reasonable when you explain matters."

"Ladies are never reasonable, my lord--especially young ones. I have
met Miss Vanrenen only once, but she struck me as one who was very
much accustomed to having her own way. And she has planned this tour
to the last minute. Any other day I might have hired a car, and picked
up my own somewhere on the road, but on Derby Day and in fine
weather----"

Simmonds spread wide his hands in sheer inability to find words that
would express the hopelessness of retrieving his shattered fortunes.
Dale was fidgeting, fingering taps and screws unnecessarily, but
Medenham was pondering his former trooper's plight. He refused to
admit that the position was quite so bad as it was painted.

"O