my watch. Two minutes to four. Adele noticed the movement and
asked the time. When I told her, she frowned.

"Not good enough," she said simply.

The light was beginning to fail now, and I asked if she would have the
lamps lit.

She shook her head.

"Not yet, Boy."

At last the road was presenting a better surface. As we flashed up a
long incline, a glance at the speedometer showed me that we were doing
fifty. As I looked again, the needle swung slowly to fifty-five....

I began to peer into the distance for Jonah's dust.

With a low snarl we swooped into La Reole, whipped unhesitatingly to
right and left, coughed at cross-streets, and then swept out of the
town ere Berry had found its name in the Michelin Guide.

Again I asked my wife if she would have the headlights.

"Not yet, Boy."

"Shall I raise the wind screen?"

"Please."

Together Berry and I observed her wish, while with her own right hand
she closed the window. The rush of the cool air was more than
freshening, and I turned up her coat collar and fastened the heavy fur
about her throat.

The car tore on.

Lights began to appear--one by one, stabbing the dusk with their beams,
steady, conspicuous. One only, far in the distance, seemed
ill-defined--a faint smudge against the twilight. Then it went out
altogether.

"Jonah," said Adele quietly.

She was right.

Within a minute we could see the smear again--more clearly. It was
Ping's tail-lamp.

I began to tremble with excitement. Beside me I could hear Berry
breathing fast through his nose.

Half a dozen times we lost the light, only to pick it up again a moment
later. Each time it was brighter than before. We were gaining
rapidly....

We could not have been more than a furlong behind, when the sudden
appearance of a cluster of bright pin-pricks immediately ahead showed
that we were approaching Marmande.

Instantly Ping's tail-light began to grow bigger. Jonah was slowing up
for the town. In a moment we should be in a position to pass....

In silence Berry and I clasped one another. Somewhere between us Nobby
began to pant.

As we entered Marmande, there were not thirty paces between the two
cars. And my unsuspecting cousin was going dead slow. A twitch of the
wheel, and we should leave him standing....

Then, without any warning, Adele slowed up and fell in behind Ping.

I could have screamed to her to go by.

Deliberately she was throwing away the chance o