ching and looked at my wife. Even in my
eagerness I was struck by the singular intelligence of that look. There
was nothing covert in it. On the contrary it was a most straightforward
and transparent look. Kendal's knowledge--which might have sought cover
if you had hunted it--had come out to meet ours on equal terms.

It only lasted for the fraction of a second. Kendal repeated firmly, but
this time respectfully, that she was Mr. Jevons's car and he couldn't
take her out without Mr. Jevons's orders, for if he did Mr. Jevons would
give him the sack.

To which Norah replied that Mr. Jevons would give him the sack if he
didn't, or if he made us miss that train by arguing. I told him sternly
to look sharp. He looked it and we got off. I had begun to crank up the
car myself while I spoke.

But he had wasted three minutes of our valuable fifteen. Though on the
open road we speeded up the car to her sixty miles an hour, we had to
slow down in the narrow lanes. Once we were held up by a country cart,
and once by cows in our track, and Norah was beside herself at each halt.

As we careened into the station yard I thought that my wife would have
hurled herself out of the car.

The station-master stood by the booking-office door. He had an ominous
air of leisure. And when he saw us coming he looked at his watch.

He told us that we had missed the train by three minutes (the three
minutes that Kendal had wasted).

I had jumped out of the car and was telling Kendal that it was all his
fault, and that if he'd done what he was told we should have caught the
train, when he turned on me as only a chauffeur convicted of folly can
turn.

"Stand away from the car, sir," he shouted. He jerked her nose round with
the savage energy of a chauffeur in the wrong; he seemed to impart his
own fury to the car. She snorted and screamed as he backed her and drove
her forward and backed her again.

And again he shouted to me. "You get in, sir, if you don't want to be
left be'ind."

As he seemed to be animated chiefly by the fear of Jevons (whom, by the
way, he adored), we could only suppose that his idea was to fly back to
Amershott in time for Jimmy's wire.

On the high road past the station he took the wrong turn.

_I_ shouted then, "What do you think you're doing, you confounded fool?"

"Ketch the London train at 'Orsham, sir," said Kendal. And he grinned.

"You can't do it," we said.

"I'll 'ave a try," said Kendal.

His honou