uffeur also cursed
loudly and with inspiration, until reminded that it was Sunday, when
he lowered his voice, at the same time increasing the density of his
language.

Mr. Walters was frankly disappointed. There, was no outward sign of
burglars. At length he turned interrogatingly to Richards.

"Just a-goin' to tune 'em up I was," explained Richards for the
twentieth time, "when I found the bloomin' engines had gone whonky,
then----"

"Found the engines had gone what?" enquired Mr. Walters.

"Whonky, dud, na-poo," explained Richards illuminatingly, whilst Mr.
Walters gazed at him icily. "Then in comes Davies," he continued,
nodding in the direction of a little round-faced man, with
"chauffeur" written on every inch of him "and 'e couldn't get 'is
blinkin' 'arp to 'urn neither. Then we starts a-lookin' round, when
lo and _be_'old! what do we find? Some streamin', saturated son of
sin an' whiskers 'as pinched the ruddy pencils out of the scarlet
magnetos."

"The float's gone from my carburettor."

The voice came from a long, lean man who appeared suddenly out of
the shadows at the far-end of the garage.

Without a word Richards and Davies dashed each to a car. A minute
later two yells announced that the floats from their carburettors
also had disappeared.

Later Richards told how that morning he had found the door of the
garage unfastened, although he was certain that he had locked it the
night before.

This was sufficient for Mr. Walters. Fleeing from the bewildering
flood of technicalities and profanity of the three chauffeurs, he
made his way direct to Sir Lyster's room. Here he told his tale, and
was instructed instantly to telephone to the police.

At the telephone further trouble awaited him. He could get no reply
from the exchange. He tried the private wire to the Admiralty; but
with no better result.

He accordingly reported the matter to Sir Lyster, who was by then
with Lord Beamdale in the library. It was the Minister of War who
reminded his host of Malcolm Sage's strange request that whatever
happened the police were not to be communicated with.

"But Sage could not have anticipated this--this monstrous outrage,"
protested Sir Lyster, white with anger. He had already imperiously
put aside Lord Beamdale's suggestion that the whole affair might be
a joke.

"Still, better do as he said," was the rejoinder and, as later Mr.
Llewellyn John concurred, Sir Lyster decided to await the arrival of
Mal