As we swung into the paved streets of Orthez—
"And when," said Berry, "when am I to drive?"
"From Peyrehorade," I replied.
"Oh. I suppose that's where the stones begin, or the road stops, or something."
I shook my head.
"Not that I know of. And you can drive all the way back. But—well, there's a hill or two coming, and—and I'd like just to take her so far," I concluded lamely.
But for my sister's presence, I would have told him the truth. This was that I had bet Jonah that I could get from Orthez to Peyrehorade in twenty minutes. The distance was exactly thirty kilometres, and the road was perfect. There were no corners, and the bends were few. There were hills, certainly; but these were straightforward enough and could be taken, so to speak, in our stride. Moreover, there were no cross-roads, and only two turnings worth thinking about. To some cars the feat would have been nothing. Whether it was within the reach of Ping and Pong remained to be seen….
As we left Orthez, I looked at my watch.
Ten minutes to eleven.
I laid hold of the wheel….