silvern hair streaming out grotesquely.
"Cut through Church Lane!"

"It's an awful road, sir!" The chauffeur's voice was blown back in his
teeth.

"Damn the road!" said the Right Hon. Walter Belford.

So, suddenly the powerful machine, spurning the solid earth like some
huge, infuriated brute, leapt sideways, two tyres thrashing empty air,
and went howling through an arch of verdure, between hedges which seemed
to shrink to right and left from its devastating course.

The man was understood to say something about "Overweighted on her
head."

"Scissors!" muttered Inspector Sheffield, wedging his bulk firmly
against the front window and clutching at anything that offered. "I hope
there are no police traps on this road!"

"He delayed for something!" yelled Belford through trumpeted hands. "We
shall catch him by Grimsdyke Farm!"

Sheffield wondered what that vastly daring man had delayed for. Belford,
with the fact of the missing photograph fresh in his mind, thought he
knew.

The old Norman church tower came rushing now to meet them; looked down
upon them, each venerable, lichened stone a mockery of this snorting,
ephemeral thing of the Speed Age; and dropped behind to join the other
vague memories which represented six miles of Sussex.

"Straight ahead now! Grimsdyke!"

Down swept the white road into a great bowl. Down shrieked the quivering
limousine, and Inspector Sheffield crouched back with an uncomfortable
sinking in the pit of the stomach, such as he had not known since he had
adventured his weighty person on a "joy-ride" at an exhibition.

From the time they had left Womsley Old Place the speed had been
consistently high, but now it rose to something enormous; increasing
with every ten yards of the slope, it became terrific. The bottom was
reached, and the climb began; but for some time little diminution was
perceptible in their headlong progress. Then it began to tell, and
presently they were mounting the long acclivity at what seemed a
tortoise pace after the breathless drop into the valley.

The car rose to the brow, and Mr. Belford mounted recklessly beside the
chauffeur, peering ahead under arched palms over the moon-bathed
country-side.

"There they are! There they are! We shall overtake them at the old
farm!"

His excitement was intensely contagious. Sheffield, who had been wedged
upon the footboard, rose unsteadily, and, supporting himself with
difficulty, looked along the gleaming ribbon