driver.

He it was who piloted the Lynhaven express for another half-mile up the
road. He it was who found the switches, unlocked them, telegraphed to
the next station to hold up traffic, and he it was--Bones insisted upon
this--who brought the "Mary Louisa" along the switch to the down line.

The position was as follows: The "Mary Louisa" was on the down line.
Two coaches were between the down and the up line, and the guard's van
was exactly on the up line, when the "Mary Louisa" refused to work any
further.

Neither the experienced engine-driver, nor Bones, nor the stoker of the
special, nor Mr. Chenney, nor the ancient guard, could coax the "Mary
Louisa" to move another yard. The Lynhaven express stretched across
both lines and made all further progress for traffic impossible.

Three hours later a breakdown gang arrived and towed the "Mary Louisa"
and her appendages back to Bayham Junction.

Bones and the girl went back to London by the last train, and Bones was
very thoughtful and silent.

But Bones was ever an optimist. The next morning he saw on a newspaper
placard: "Birthday Honours. Twenty-two New Knights." And he actually
stopped his car, bought a paper, and searched the lists for his name.
It was not there.

CHAPTER XI

A STUDENT OF MEN

Mr. Jackson Hyane was one of those oldish-looking young men to whom the
description of "man about town" most naturally applied. He was always
well-dressed and correctly dressed. You saw him at first nights. He
was to be seen in the paddock at Ascot--it was a shock to discover that
he had not the Royal Enclosure badge on the lapel of his coat--and he
was to be met with at most of the social functions, attendance at which
did not necessarily imply an intimate acquaintance with the leaders of
Society, yet left the impression that the attendant was, at any rate,
in the swim, and might very well be one of the principal swimmers.

He lived off Albemarle Street in a tiny flat, and did no work of any
kind whatever. His friends, especially his new friends, thought he
"had a little money," and knew, since he told them, that he had
expectations. He did not tell them that his expectations were largely
bound up in their credulity and faith in his integrity. Some of them
discovered that later, but the majority drifted out of his circle
poorer without being wiser, for Mr. Hyane played a wonderful game of
piquet, and seemed to be no more than abnormally lucky.