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One seldom hears in England of a motorist running away and leaving the scene of an accident that he has caused. Another thing that greatly helps the English policeman in his work is that a captured criminal is not turned loose again as is often the case in this country. Justice is surer and swifter in England, and as a consequence crime averages less than in most parts of the States.
"You had better stay a little longer," I said to the inspector. "Here is another man coming who may be able to give you some more details of the Pirate. He has seen him, and as he has been a longer resident here than myself, he may be able to tell you more about the people round than I can." "A motorist?" he asked. "Yes, named Mannering," I replied.
Never forget when you drive in a taxi that you own the car absolutely as long as the clock is ticking; that you are a motorist, a fit member for the Royal Automobile Club; that the driver is your chauffeur to obey your orders; and, best of all, that, May being here, you can put your feet upon the seat opposite in the sight of everybody. Will you miss the glory?
The houses are built of sawn boards, the first indication we had seen that we were nearing a forest country. The remaining one hundred and seventy miles to Urga are a delight, even to the motorist who loves the paved roads of cities. They are like a boulevard amid glorious, rolling hills luxuriant with long, sweet grass.
With the exception of the first two weeks, when we had rain more or less every day, we had been favored with exceptionally fine weather. During the last seven or eight weeks of our trip, only light showers had fallen and we were assured that the season had been an unusual one for England. The matter of weather is not of great moment to the motorist in Great Britain.
She soon appeared, dressed in the very latest motor-clothes, with her veil properly fixed, in a manner which showed me instantly that she was a motorist. Besides, she would not enter the car, but got up beside me, wrapped a rug about her skirts in a business-like manner, and gave me the order to move. "Where to, mademoiselle?" I asked.
The motorist will find an ideal road from Baltimore to Gettysburg. He will see a beautiful and fertile agricultural country whose well kept homes speak of refinement and prosperity among the people. It was over this wonderful highway that we sped while on our way to the famous town. We entered Gettysburg at nightfall, passing the house where General Meade had his headquarters.
The Professors of a later day will perhaps keep shops for the sale of miscellaneous information, and we shall drop in and be inflated with learning just as the bicyclist gets his tire pumped up, or the motorist is recharged with electricity at so much per unit.
He seems to have reached a psychological impasse or stalemate. It is easy to say that the subject is thwarted by a subconscious block and let it go at that. This, however, doesn't help him in his dilemma. It's like telling the stranded motorist that the reason his car has stalled is because the motor isn't running.
No motorist who knows anything of the game will ask me to describe this journey, or to tell him just where he should stop because of the dead 'uns of five hundred years ago, or where he should hurry on because of the livestock of to-day. I had a fine car under me, a pretty woman in the tonneau, a May-day to put life into me, and a road so fine that a man might dream of it in his sleep.
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