ther people of whose
existence he was not then aware, was to lead to sorrow as well as
happiness, to crime as well as the vindication of the law, to... in
short, what is more to the point, had he not then looked round, this
story would never have been written.

The vehicle in itself was in no way remarkable. It was a motor lorry of
about five tons capacity, a heavy thing, travelling slowly. Merriman's
attention at first focused itself on the driver. He was a man of about
thirty, good-looking, with thin, clear-cut features, an aquiline nose,
and dark, clever-looking eyes. Dressed though he was in rough working
clothes, there was a something in his appearance, in his pose, which
suggested a man of better social standing than his occupation warranted.

"Ex-officer," thought Merriman as his gaze passed on to the lorry
behind. It was painted a dirty green, and was empty except for a single
heavy casting, evidently part of some large and massive machine. On the
side of the deck was a brass plate bearing the words in English "The
Landes Pit-Prop Syndicate, No. 4." Merriman was somewhat surprised to
see a nameplate in his own language in so unexpected a quarter, but the
matter really did not interest him and he soon dismissed it from his
mind.

The machine chuffed ponderously past, and Merriman, by now rested,
turned to restart his bicycle. But his troubles for the day were not
over. On the ground below his tank was a stain, and even as he looked,
a drop fell from the carburetor feed pipe, followed by a second and a
third.

He bent down to examine, and speedily found the cause of the trouble.
The feed pipe was connected to the bottom of the tank by a union,
and the nut, working slack, had allowed a small but steady leak. He
tightened the nut and turned to measure the petrol in the tank. A glance
showed him that a mere drain only remained.

"Curse it all," he muttered, "that's the second time that confounded nut
has left me in the soup."

His position was a trifle awkward. He was still some twenty-five
kilometers from Bordeaux, and his machine would not carry him more than
perhaps two. Of course, he could stop the first car that approached,
and no doubt borrow enough petrol to make the city, but all day he had
noticed with surprise how few and far between the cars were, and there
was no certainty that one would pass within a reasonable time.

Then the sound of the receding lorry, still faintly audible, suggested
an idea