ty
for a joint discussion of the latest development in the little war. But
when Ballard was helping him into the mechanician's seat, and Otto had
gone for a bucket of water to cool the hissing radiator, there was time
for a hurried word or two.

"More trouble, Loudon--it turned up while you were asleep. Manuel was
here, in the camp, while we were hammering it out with Wingfield. It is
measurably certain that he overheard all or part of the talk. What he
knows, the colonel doubtless knows, too, by this time, and----"

"Oh, good Lord!" groaned Bromley. "It was bad enough as it stood, but
this drags Wingfield into it, neck and heels! What will they do to him?"

Ballard knitted his brows. "As Manuel could very easily make it appear
in his tale-bearing, anything that might happen to Wingfield would be a
pretty clear case of self-defence for Colonel Craigmiles. Wingfield
knows too much."

"A great deal too much. If I dared say ten words to Elsa----"

"No," Ballard objected; "she is the one person to be shielded and
spared. It's up to us to get Wingfield away from Castle 'Cadia and out
of the country--before anything does happen to him."

"If I were only half a man again!" Bromley lamented. "But I know just
how it will be; I sha'n't have a shadow of chance at Wingfield this
evening. As soon as I show up, Miss Cauffrey and the others will scold
me for overstaying my leave, and chase me off to bed."

"That's so; and it's right," mused Ballard. "You've no business to be
out of bed this minute; you're not fit to be facing a ten-mile drive in
this jig-wagon. By Jove: that's our way out of it! You climb down and
let me go in your place. I'll tell them we let you overdo yourself; that
you were too tired to stand the motor trip--which is the fact, if you'd
only admit it. That will give me a chance at Wingfield; the chance you
wouldn't have if you were to go. What do you say?"

"I've already said it," was the convalescent's reply; and he let Ballard
help him out of the mechanic's seat and into the bungalow.

This is how it chanced that the chauffeur, coming back from Garou's
kitchen barrel with the second bucket of water, found his fares changed
and the chief engineer waiting to be his passenger over the ten miles of
roundabout road. It was all one to the Berliner. He listened to
Ballard's brief explanation with true German impassiveness, cranked the
motor, pulled himself in behind the pilot-wheel, and sent the little car
bou