‘Yes, of course. Look, you can see from here; it’s only a puncture.’
‘But didn’t one of them say they’d got no indiarubber?’
Teresa laughed.
‘You aren’t yourself yet,’ she said. ‘You’re only a goose yet. That was only an excuse for attacking us.’
Richard got up, and speedily discovered that he could walk. They proceeded to the abandoned car. It was a 40 h.-p. concern, fully equipped and stored. The travellers by it had already begun to mend their puncture when the pursuing car surprised them. They had evidently judged it easier to change cars than to finish the mending. Speed was their sole object, and in the carrying out of the schemes of a man like Simon Lock a 40 h.-p. Panhard left by the roadside was a trifle.
In twenty minutes the puncture was successfully mended, both Richard and Teresa being experts at the operation. The effect of the blow on Richard’s head had by this time quite passed away, save for a bruise.
‘And now for Manchester Square,’ said Teresa, as they moved off.
‘Why Manchester Square?’ Richard asked.
‘That is where they were going; I heard them talking.’
‘It will be Simon Lock’s house,’ said Richard. ‘I must go there alone.’