e, ran it along
the road some fifty yards, turned in among the bushes, flung himself
down, and sobbed and cried.

There was confusion on the scene of the duel. Count Sigismond's
seconds had to chase him, catch him, and hold him while the doctor
dressed his wound. Then they fell to a discussion as to whether the
eldritch yell had been uttered by the Count or by someone in the wood
round the glade; it had fallen upon very ragged nerves, and for the
lives of them they could not be sure. Lord Crosland threw no light at
all upon the matter, though he did his best to help their dispute grow
acrimonious. Sir Tancred preserved the discreet silence of a principal
in a duel; the Count Sigismond only moaned.

At last they turned their attention to him, and carried him to the top
of the path. Sir Tancred and Lord Crosland started for the town to
send up a cab for him.

When they were out of hearing, Lord Crosland said, "Most likely, that
yell saved your life, old chap."

"I should say that there wasn't a doubt about it; but, really, in the
case of a sweep like Puy-de-Dome, I can't say that I mind a little
irregularity. Besides, my conscience is quite clear. Heaven knows I
did my best to keep Tinker in the dark and at a distance."

"It can't be done," said Lord Crosland with conviction.

Tinker heard their voices, and by a violent effort, which did him good,
hushed his hysteric sobbing. After a while he heard the cab rattle up,
and rattle away.

Twenty minutes later he mounted his machine, and, passing through the
back streets of Monte Carlo, rode slowly back to Nice. On his way back
he washed his face at a spring, and when he mounted his machine again,
he said to himself firmly, "I'm _not_ ashamed--not a bit."

As he wheeled his bicycle into the coach-house of the hotel, Dorothy
ran into it, caught him by the arm, and cried, "Did they fight? Is
your father hurt?"

He looked at her white, strained face, and said with a dogged air, "My
father's all right. What do you mean about fighting? I--I've been for
a ride--on my bicycle."

"Then you did stop it!" cried Dorothy; and before he could ward her off
she had kissed him.

"Look here," said Tinker firmly, but gently, "these things won't bear
talking about. They won't really."

CHAPTER TWELVE

TINKER BORROWS A MOTOR-CAR

A few days later, early in the afternoon, Sir Tancred was leaning on
the wall of the gardens of the Temple of Fortune, smoking a ci