"The car will catch him up directly though," said Gabrielle.
"It's a motor-cycle, stupid! My word! They're coming some pace."
"Which, the car people?"
"Both. Come up and look. Your turn with the glasses. I'll have just one more squint through them. My Sunday hat, and...."
"What is it?" demanded Gabrielle, scrambling up in a hurry, for Noreen had broken off short in her favourite ejaculation, as though she were almost too surprised to speak. "Isn't it Joey in the car?"
"Who do you think it is on the motor-cycle, and scorching fit to bust?" demanded Noreen in a thrilling whisper. "Why, our old Stinks Professor, no less."
She suddenly dived down from her position on the high-bricked bank, and dropped below, pulling Gabrielle with her, and nearly landing on terra firma with a great bump, in her haste.
"He won't have seen us; he hasn't got glasses. Let's hide and perk up like jacks in the box just as he goes by. He'll have the surprise of his life—and he ought to be pleased to see two of his promising pupils."
"You won't call out or anything to give him a jump, will you?" asked Gabrielle anxiously. She knew Noreen.