ad unexpectedly met on the wrong side of the road)--"never goes
out, dear old thing. It's out now, I admit, but it's not in working
order--Gosh! That was a narrow escape! Nobody but a skilled driver,
old Hamilton, could have missed that lamp-post. It is going to create
a sensation; there's nothing like it on the market--whoop!"

He brought the car to a standstill with a jerk and within half an inch
of a City policeman who was directing the traffic with his back turned
to Bones, blissfully unconscious of the doom which almost overcame him.

"I like driving with you, Bones," said Hamilton, when they reached the
office, and he had recovered something of his self-possession. "Next
to stalking bushmen in the wild, wild woods, I know of nothing more
soothing to the nerves."

"Thank you," said Bones gratefully. "I'm not a bad driver, am I?"

"'Bad' is not the word I should use alone," said Hamilton pointedly.

In view of the comments which followed, he was surprised and pained to
receive on the following day an invitation, couched in such terms as
left him a little breathless, to spend the Sunday exploiting the
beauties of rural England.

"Now, I won't take a 'No,'" said Bones, wagging his bony forefinger.
"We'll start at eleven o'clock, dear old Ham, and we'll lunch at
what-you-may-call-it, dash along the thingummy road, and heigho! for
the beautiful sea-breezes."

"Thanks," said Hamilton curtly. "You may dash anywhere you like, but
I'm dashed if I dash with you. I have too high a regard for my life."

"Naughty, naughty!" said Bones, "I've a good mind not to tell you what
I was going to say. Let me tell you the rest. Now, suppose," he said
mysteriously, "that there's a certain lady--a jolly old girl named
Vera--ha--ha!"

Hamilton went red.

"Now, listen, Bones," he said; "we'll not discuss any other person than
ourselves."

"What do you say to a day in the country? Suppose you asked Miss
Vera----"

"Miss Vera Sackwell," replied Hamilton a little haughtily, "if she is
the lady you mean, is certainly a friend of mine, but I have no control
over her movements. And let me tell you, Bones, that you annoy me
when----"

"Hoity, toity!" said Bones. "Heaven bless my heart and soul! Can't
you trust your old Bones? Why practise this deception, old thing? I
suppose," he went on reflectively, ignoring the approaching apoplexy of
his partner, "I suppose I'm one of the most confided-in persons in
London. A