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Looks as though he meant doing you in. Got any enemies?" "None that I know of," Lutchester answered cautiously. "Why, the car's there still," he added, as they reached the corner. "And no chauffeur," the other muttered. The officer searched the car and drew out a license from the flap pocket. The commissionaire from the restaurant approached them.
"Twenty more the local police will be here, and rub out every trace. Is there a trace, a mark a print a smell, even? I've got an hour." He sent all the servants to bed, except Randal's chauffeur, whom he summoned to the hall. "My car's fit to travel, Martin," he said. "Shove in as many tins of petrol as she'll hold. I may want her to-night.
All his marriage vows were in his face. It was quite dusk when the Green Imp got away. Johnny Caruthers had the satisfaction of lighting up the car's lamps always a joy to him, and particularly so to-night, for even the oil taillight bore witness to his trimming and polishing till its red eye could gleam no brighter.
"All right; let's shove off," Cousin Nikkolay said, stepping forward. Ten minutes since they had come outside; another five to get into position. Fifty minutes, now, till he and Elaine Lady Elaine Trask of Traskon, for real and for always would be going home. "Sure the car's ready?" he asked, for the hundredth time. His cousin assured him that it was.
At length lifting a small stone she threw it on the road a car's length behind us, answering in Irish that there was the spot where he was found. The murderer was hidden in the field opposite. The road was bare of the shelter of hedge or ditch, bush or tree. It was late; he was coming home alone, his police escort for some reason were not with him that particular night.
The splendid breadth of shoulder and depth of chest caught the wanderer's glance and won his grudging approval. Thence, his elaborately careless gaze shifted to the car's rear seat where sat a girl. He noted she was small and dainty and tanned and dressed in white sport-clothes.
Most likely he was thirsty-like, or something." The Mistress was busy with details of the car's unpacking. So she accepted the explanation. It seemed probable that the long and dusty ride should have made Lad thirsty; and that after his drink at the lake, he had made the rounds of the Place; as ever was his wont after his few brief absences from home.
"As long as the car's moving, these two little car heaters will not only keep us from getting frost bites but, in a pinch, we can cook on 'em." "And here," added Roy, as he tapped a chestlike object on which the seats were mounted, "is where we get the stuff to do the trick. We can put gas enough in there to carry us three hundred miles.
Then, with no warning, had come an exquisite touching of keys and a girl's voice. "To her let us garlands bring." The melody faded and ceased. The refrain melted into the silence. For a moment I stood still, my eyes on the balcony above. Then I slipped noiselessly to the car, picked up a rug from the back seat and laid it, folded small, on the edge of the car's back.
What's-his-name, knew twenty-seven languages, he could be silent in all of them. He did let me play the car's musical siren, though; a fascinating bugbear, supposed to warn children, chickens, and other light-minded animals that something important is coming, and they'd better look alive. It has two tunes, one grave, one gay.
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