hing to tell his story. He was likely to tell it
quicker for not being questioned; your Cockney dislikes anything
he can construe into inquisition. I remarked that the road
didn't seem made for speed--too narrow and too rough--and let it
go at that.

He said no more until we reached the village of Bethany, and drew
abreast of Lazarus' reputed tomb, where a pack of scavenger-dogs
awoke and yelped around the wheels. He did his best to run
over one of them, but missed. Then he could not hold his story
any longer.

"Two nights ago," he said, "they gives me orders to take a Harab
to a point near Jericho. After dark, I starts off, 'im on the
back seat; engine ain't warm yet, so we goes slow. He leans
forward after a couple o' minutes, an says 'Yalla kawam'!" * So
I thinks to myself I'll show the blighter a thing or two, me not
bein' used to takin' orders from no Harabs. Soon as the engine's
'ot I lets rip, an' you know now what the road's like. When we
gets to the top o' that 'ill above Gethsemane I lets extry
special rip. Thinks I, if you can stand what I can, my son,
you've guts. [*Hurry up.]

"Well, we 'its all the 'igh places, and lands on a bit o' level
road just often enough to pick up more speed--comes round that
sharp bend on 'alf a wheel, syme as I told you--kills three pye-
dogs for sure, an' maybe others, but I don't dare look round--
misses a camel in the dark that close that the 'air on my arms
an' legs fair crawled up an' down me--'it's a lump o' rock that
comes near tippin' us into the ditch--an' carries on faster an'
ever. By the time we gets 'ere to Bethany, thinks I, it's time
to take a look an' see if my passenger's still in the bloomin'
car. So I slows down.

"The minute I turns my 'ead to 'ave a peer at 'im. 'Kawam!' 'e
says. 'Quick! Quick!'

"So it strikes me I weren't in no such 'urry after all. Why
'urry for a Harab? The car's been rattlin' worse 'n a tinker's
basket. I gets down to lave a look--lights a gasper*--an' takes
my bloomin' time about it. You seen them yellow curs there by
Lazarus' tomb? Well, they come for me, yappin' an' snarlin' to
beat 'ell. I'm pickin' up stones to break their 'eads with--good
stones ain't such easy findin' in the dark, an' every time I
stoops 'alf a dozen curs makes a rush for me--when what d'you
suppose? That bloomin' Harab passenger o' mine vaults over into
my seat, an' afore I could say ''ell's bells' 'e's off. I'd left
the engine r