anics, but was never allowed to adopt engineering as a
profession, my father's one idea being that I should follow in his
footsteps--a delusive hope entertained by many a fond parent.

Six months of office life sufficed me. One day I went home to Teddington
and refused to return again to Wood Street. This resulted in an open
quarrel between my father and myself, with the result that a week later
I was on my way to Canada. In a year I was back again, and, after some
months of semi-starvation in London, I managed to obtain a job in a
motor factory. I was then entirely in my element. During two years I
learned the mechanism of the various petrol-driven cars, until I became
classed as an expert driver and engineer.

At the place I was employed there was manufactured one of the best and
most expensive makes of English car, and, being at length placed on the
testing staff, it was my duty to take out each new chassis for its
trial-run before being delivered to a customer.

Upon my certificate each chassis was declared in perfect running order,
and was then handed over to the body-makers indicated by the purchaser.

Being an expert driver, my firm sent me to drive in the Tourist Trophy
races in the Isle of Man, and I likewise did the Ardennes Circuit and
came in fourth in the Brescia race for the Florio Cup, my successes, of
course, adding glory and advertisement to the car I drove.

Racing, however, aroused within me, as it does in every motorist, an
ardent desire to travel long distances. The testing of those chassis in
Regent's Park, and an occasional run with some wealthy customer out on
the Great North Road or on the Bath or Brighton roads, became too quiet
a life for me. I was now seized by a desire to tour and see Europe.
True, in my capacity of tester, I met all classes of men. In the seat
beside me have sat Cabinet Ministers, Dukes, Indian Rajahs, Members of
Parliament, and merchant princes, customers or prospective purchasers,
all of whom chatted with me, mostly displaying their ignorance of the
first principles of mechanics. It was all pleasant enough--a merry life
and good pay. Yet I hated London, and the height of my ambition was a
good car to drive abroad.

After some months of waiting, the opportunity came, and I seized it.

By appointment, at the Royal Automobile Club one grey December morning,
I met Count Bindo di Ferraris, a young Italian aristocrat, whose aspect,
however, was the reverse of that of a So