d as a
passenger. As it was, we carried off most of his tail as a trophy on the
brass of the lamp. The old steed, thus rudely awakened, lashed out good
and hard, but by that time we were gone, and he missed the car by a
quarter of a mile.

During this strenuous episode Alfred never relaxed his professional
stolidity, and, when we were clear, went on with his story in the tone
of a man who found life wanting in animation.

"Well, at fust, the old man would only buy one of these little
eight-horse rubby-dubbys that go strugglin' up 'ills with a death-rattle
in its throat, and all the people in buggies passin' it. O' course that
didn't suit Henery. He used to get that spiked when a car passed him,
he'd nearly go mad. And one day he nearly got the sack for dodgin' about
up a steep 'ill in front of one o' them big twenty-four Darracqs, full
of 'owlin' toffs, and not lettin' 'em get a chance to go past till they
got to the top. But at last he persuaded old John Bull to let him go
to England and buy a car for him. He was to do a year in the shops, and
pick up all the wrinkles, and get a car for the old man. Bit better than
wood and water joeying, wasn't it?"

Our progress here was barred by our rounding a corner right on to a
flock of sheep, that at once packed together into a solid mass in front
of us, blocking the whole road from fence to fence.

"Silly cows o' things, ain't they?" said Alfred, putting on his
emergency brake, and skidding up till the car came softly to rest
against the cushion-like mass--a much quicker stop than any horse-drawn
vehicle could have made. A few sheep were crushed somewhat, but it
is well known that a sheep is practically indestructible by violence.
Whatever Alfred's faults were, he certainly could drive.

"Well," he went on, lighting a cigarette, unheeding the growls of the
drovers, who were trying to get the sheep to pass the car, "well, as I
was sayin', Henery went to England, and he got a car. Do you know wot he
got?"

"No, I don't."

"'E got a ninety," said Alfred slowly, giving time for the words to soak
in.

"A ninety! What do you mean?"

"'E got a ninety--a ninety-horse-power racin' engine wot was made
for some American millionaire and wasn't as fast as wot some other
millionaire had, so he sold it for the price of the iron, and Henery got
it, and had a body built for it, and he comes out here and tells us all
it's a twenty mongrel--you know, one of them cars that's made part