ers proved to be
nothing more or less than complete lack of gasoline. No one had thought
of that, because the search had been for something serious and esoteric.

"Gas" was offered on all hands, and the G.-G., having drunk long and
deep, was once more refreshed as a giant to run her course.

"Shall I drive, or will you?" I mildly asked Miss Moore.

"_Can_ you?" she inquired.

"I don't think I've forgotten how. I drove a Grayles-Grice once for a
year when I was down on my luck."

(You'll let that statement go unchallenged, won't you? It was the most
beastly year of my life.)

We were about to start on a return journey to Kidd's Pines, with me at
the helm, and quite an audience looking on, when two policemen came
bumping along in a short-nosed car. They bawled out a question: Had any
of us "folks" seen two fellows on motor bikes?

Miss Moore was the only one of the "folks" who had. "Do tell them I saw
the men," she appealed to me. And then before I could open my lips she
had (characteristically of woman) plunged into the recital herself. Her
car had come to a standstill, she explained, in the middle of the road.
She couldn't make it start. Two motor bicycle riders had appeared and
would have passed, but she signalled them to stop. She begged the pair
to push her car out of the way. At first she thought they meant to hurry
on. They went past her, one on each side. But they muttered something to
each other, stopped suddenly, and jumped off their machines. They were
laughing together as they came running back. They said, "All right,
Miss," and took hold of the Grayles-Grice as if to wheel her to the edge
of the road. But then there followed a fear-r-ful bang, like a pistol
shot, and Miss Moore noticed a queer smell--a little like the Fourth of
July when you were a child. She was frightened, and so were the men. One
of them cried out, "Something wrong here! This'll take an expert!" And
the other warned her, _whatever_ she did, not to let anybody who didn't
understand that make of motor try to budge the wheels an inch. Then the
two were obliged to go in haste because they had a ferryboat to catch.
Not long after autos and autos began to stream along from both
directions, and were held up because she warned every one not to move
the car.

Clever dodge, wasn't it? The pair had robbed a jewellery shop window,
and bagged a whole trayful of suburban engagement rings. As it happened,
the police had taken up a wrong scent be