HONESTY'S THE BEST POLICY
The short run from the spot where the poor fellow driving the rival car in which Rawlings and Trendall had been passengers had met with his death was anything but a pleasant experience for Clive and his comrades. In the first place, Higgins, hitherto reckless as to his driving, now went at a snail's pace, as if he were in a funeral procession. And then there were two additional passengers in the car. The boys eyed one another in silence. Susanne, as if to break the spell, and careless now, as ever, of the lost authority of Rawlings, fixed his monocle upon that worthy reflectively.
"Best 'op as soon as we gets to the common," suddenly cried Higgins over his shoulder. They heard the brake grind. The car came to a standstill. Then the rascally driver turned upon them, thrust his cap to the back of his head and invited all to listen.
"See 'ere, young gents," he began. "Just at this point you gets off and 'ops it up to the school."
"Yes." Susanne answered him in a mono-syllable, though his brows were furrowed and his eyes scowling. Rawlings slid from the car, and Trendall likewise. Then the others followed, till they were gathered around the bonnet.
"Well?" demanded Susanne curtly.
"And jest at this 'ere point I goes right off to the village. See?"
"No," declared Susanne and Clive together, obstinately determined to give the fellow no encouragement, for they guessed at what was coming.
"There isn't anything to see," said Bert coldly. "The thing's plain. You're here at this spot. We divide. You go off to the village and there give information to the police."
"That's just where you're off it," cried Higgins at once, savagely, "and don't you get a layin' down the law to me, Mr. Seymour. I 'ops it to the village, and I says nothing. I leaves it to the police to find out what's happened. I didn't cause that accident. It was the steering gear that broke and upset the car. So it's no fault of mine. You ain't fools, you young gents?"