He gave a powerful twist at one of the handles.
“That'll——” he began.
“Pouff!” roared the Gasowashine, rearing up and lunging wildly from side to side for a moment.
Then it started down the aisle in earnest. Bang! Bang! Bang! echoed from the crockery inside. Puff! Puff! Puff! said the motor, driving its hardest.
{Illustration: “I shall let go? Yes?”}
“Ciel!” wailed the cook “I shall let it go? Yes?”
“No!” shouted Hawkins, running beside the unhappy man. “In just a second it'll——”
It did, although not perhaps what Hawkins expected.
I saw a little door in the side of the infernal machine flip open. I perceived a shower of finely subdivided crockery hanging over the cook for a moment.
Then the bits of china and some two or three gallons of greasy water descended upon the Frenchman and the door flipped to once more. The Gasowashine had dislodged the cook and was free to pursue its wanderings unhindered.