"Here—" began the grocer.
"What I really want," said Patch calmly, "is an egg. Have you one? I'd like one called Percival, please, about fourteen hands high, and not too frisky. Ah, the very thing!"
He selected a couple of eggs from an open box on the counter, while the grocer looked on open-mouthed. He was quite convinced that he was being visited by a couple of lunatics, and he was doubly sure when he saw Patch turn to the doorway and let the red-faced youth have an egg fairly in the eye.
The pursuit had been somewhat tardy in discovering where the escapees had gone, and it was now arrested by the bombardment that Patch opened with the eggs. The baker, panting with open mouth, received a missile directly upon the teeth. The egg burst, and he found himself swallowing a mass of yolk and shattered shell. The constable had to wipe away a sticky mess before he could see; and the red-faced boy, blinded by the first egg, had collided with a pile of jam-tins, which descended joyfully upon his head as he lay sprawling.
"Thanks for the eggs," murmured Patch, pressing two florins into the grocer's palm. "Is there a back exit? Lead on, Macduffer."
And he bolted for the rear of the shop, closely followed by Billy. They had been working their way towards the garage, and it was only a stone's throw to the bicycle.
Hastily throwing his levers into position, Patch trundled the big Indian a few yards; and, as the engine began to fire, leapt on board, followed in a moment by the ever-ready Billy. They stormed out of the little village of Rimvale, leaving a trail of blue exhaust-smoke and more than one angry person.
"Quick work, quick work!" said Patch. "That's the life, isn't it? As I said, when I gave up the job of carrying the red flag in front of a steam roller, 'The excitement's killing me.' But we got the merry old Star, and that's the main thing!"
"Jingo, but I'm obliged to you," said Billy gratefully. "I don't know what I should have done without you and the old bike! And that's a fact."
"Don't apologize," returned Patch cheerily. "We'll be back about five—that is, if the idiot policeman doesn't take it into his head to ring up and send a posse of constabulary on our track. I wonder how your mates have been doing back at Deepwater? Trust that brainy young brother of mine to concoct something ingenious to account for your absence! Wonder how he did it?"