me the new magneto, and
just feeling I'd pay ten pounds for the privilege of knocking him down
with his own spanner.

We finished the job in about half an hour, and the Renault started up
at once. Moss hadn't spoken of Miss Dolly while we were at work; but
directly the engine started he remembered his business, and turned on
me like a fury.

"Whed did you say she started off?" he asked.

"About two this afternoon, I think."

"In whose car?"

"Why, his lordship's, of course."

"She seems pretty thick with the dobility. Perhaps I'd better give her
a chadce of paying?"

I smiled.

"There's boats to France at Dover," said I. "What if she's going over
by the night mail?"

He looked at me most shrewdly.

"I can't make you out, Britten," says he; "either you are the greatest
fool or the greatest rogue id my ebployment. Subtimes you seeb clever
enough, too. Suppose we rud the car over to Dover and see what's doing
there."

"Yes," said I, "and you can telephone to the pier at Folkestone to have
her stopped if she's sailing from there."

He snapped his fingers and smiled all over his face.

"That's it!" he cried. "If she's leaving the coudtry I'll arrest her.
I wish you'd been half as sharp when you picked her up id London."

"It's these motor veils," said I. "You can't expect a man to see
through three thicknesses of shuffon--now can you, Mr. Moss?"

It was a lucky shot, and, upon my word, I really do believe that I
began to wheedle him, Whether I did, or whether I did not, we had the
car upon the road in ten minutes, and were off for Dover before a
quarter of an hour had passed. Previous to that I had slipped into the
inn on the pretence of leaving my coat, and had left a letter for Miss
Dolly to be taken up by Biggs, when he came there to meet me for our
evening walk. "Moss is here," I wrote, "look out for yourself."

I laugh now when I think of that journey to Dover, and old Shekels Moss
sitting like a hawk on the seat beside me. What lies I had to tell
him--what starts I gave him, when I pointed out that she might have
gone by the afternoon boat, or perhaps motored right on to Southampton.
My own idea was to stop the night at Dover, whatever happened, and no
sooner had we drawn up at the "Lord Warden," than I had a penknife into
the off front tyre, and turned my back when the wind fizzed out. This
stopped the run to Folkestone straight away, and, by the time I'd done
the job, Moss said he tho