sume new interests.

The boy messenger, summoned telephonically by a sympathetic
maid-servant in a neighboring house, guessed that the gentleman
standing on the pavement owned the "motor-car" to which he had been
directed. Here were two cars, but the boy did not hesitate. He
saluted.

"Messenger, sir," he said.

"This way," intervened Simmonds curtly.

"No. I want you," said Medenham. "You know Sevastopolo's, the
cigarette shop in Bond Street?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take this card there, and ask him to dispatch the order at once."
Meanwhile he was writing: "Kindly send 1,000 Salonikas to 91 Cavendish
Square."

Simmonds looked anxious. He was not a smooth-spoken fellow, but he did
not wish to offend Lord Medenham.

"Would your lordship mind if I sent the boy to the Savoy Hotel first?"
he asked nervously. "It is rather late, and Miss Vanrenen will be
expecting me."

"What time are you due at the Savoy?"

"We were to start at twelve o'clock, but the ladies' luggage had to be
strapped on, and----"

"Ah, the deuce! That sounds formidable."

"Of course they must stow everything into the canvas trunks I
supplied, my lord."

Medenham stooped and examined the screws which fastened an iron grid
at the back of the broken-down vehicle.

"Whip open the tool box, Dale, and transfer that arrangement to my
car," he said briskly. "Make it fit somehow. I don't approve of
damaged paintwork, nor of weight behind the driving-wheels for that
matter, but time presses, and the ladies might shy at a request to
repack their belongings into my kit-bags, even if I were carrying
them. Now, Simmonds, give me the route, if you know it, and hand over
your road maps. I mean to take your place until your car is put right.
Wire me where to expect you. You ought to be ship-shape in three days,
at the utmost."

"My lord----" began the overwhelmed Simmonds.

"I'll see you hanged as high as Haman before I hand over my Mercury to
you, if that is what you are thinking of," said Medenham sharply.
"Why, man, she is built like a watch. It would take you a month to
understand her. Now, you boy, be off to Sevastopolo's. Where can I buy
a chauffeur's kit, Simmonds?"

"Your lordship is really too kind. I couldn't think of permitting it,"
muttered Simmonds.

"What, then--do you refuse my assistance?"

"It isn't that, my lord. I am awfully grateful----"

"Are you afraid that I shall run off with Miss Vanrenen--hold her to
ransom--send Black Hand