d, triangular
grass patch crossed at a hot sprint. We were twenty yards from the road
when the sound of a starting motor broke the silence. We gained the
graveled footpath only to see the taillight of the car dwindling to the
north!

Smith leaned dizzily against a tree.

"Eltham is in that car!" he gasped. "Just God! are we to stand here and
see him taken away to--"

He beat his fist upon the tree, in a sort of tragic despair. The nearest
cab-rank was no great distance away, but, excluding the possibility of
no cab being there, it might, for all practical purposes, as well have
been a mile off.

The beat of the retreating motor was scarcely audible; the lights
might but just be distinguished. Then, coming in an opposite direction,
appeared the headlamp of another car, of a car that raced nearer and
nearer to us, so that, within a few seconds of its first appearance, we
found ourselves bathed in the beam of its headlights.

Smith bounded out into the road, and stood, a weird silhouette, with
upraised arms, fully in its course!

The brakes were applied hurriedly. It was a big limousine, and its
driver swerved perilously in avoiding Smith and nearly ran into me.
But, the breathless moment past, the car was pulled up, head on to the
railings; and a man in evening clothes was demanding excitedly what had
happened. Smith, a hatless, disheveled figure, stepped up to the door.

"My name is Nayland Smith," he said rapidly--"Burmese Commissioner." He
snatched a letter from his pocket and thrust it into the hands of the
bewildered man. "Read that. It is signed by another Commissioner--the
Commissioner of Police."

With amazement written all over him, the other obeyed.

"You see," continued my friend, tersely--"it is carte blanche. I wish to
commandeer your car, sir, on a matter of life and death!".

The other returned the letter.

"Allow me to offer it!" he said, descending. "My man will take your
orders. I can finish my journey by cab. I am--"

But Smith did not wait to learn whom he might be.

"Quick!" he cried to the stupefied chauffeur--"You passed a car a minute
ago--yonder. Can you overtake it?"

"I can try, sir, if I don't lose her track."

Smith leaped in, pulling me after him.

"Do it!" he snapped. "There are no speed limits for me. Thanks!
Goodnight, sir!"

We were off! The car swung around and the chase commenced.

One last glimpse I had of the man we had dispossessed, standing alone by
the roads