CHAPTER V
THE COLONEL DREAMS, AND I AWAKEN
I slept until late the next morning. I have always been accustomed to a clear eight hours' sleep, and, as I did not get between the sheets until about four in the morning, I naturally did not awaken until mid-day. So what with my tub and the necessity for shaving, my early morning call upon the Colonel did not come off. I suppose, as a matter of fact, I sat down to breakfast just about the time when the gastronomic warrior was thinking of luncheon. However, when I saw how amply my expectation of a change in the weather had been fulfilled, I did not regret my lengthy sleep. From a sodden grey sky sheets of water were steadily pouring. There was not the slightest chance of any break in the clouds. Consequently I felt assured of finding Miss Maitland at home if I made my call in the afternoon, and since her father oftentimes thought it expedient to take a little repose after luncheon in order to prepare himself for the fatigue of dining, it was possible that I might even be fortunate enough to secure a tête-à-tête with her.
I came to my breakfast, therefore, with as good a spirit as appetite, neither being in the slightest degree affected by the memory of the easy way in which I had been plundered by the Motor Pirate. Of course I felt a certain chagrin. Still, I could contemplate the adventure with a considerable deal more equanimity than I had managed to display the night before, though I found that my curiosity concerning him had, if anything, increased. I turned with eagerness to the morning papers to see whether they could add to my knowledge concerning him.
As every one is aware, all the papers on the morning of the first of April that year devoted columns to his exploits. If I remember aright, the country was at that time engaged upon two of our usual minor wars, Parliament was in the midst of an important debate upon the second reading of a measure to secure an extension of the franchise, and a divorce case of more than common interest was engaging the attention of the leading legal lights of the law courts. But all these things received but the scantiest notice. The war news was relegated to the inside pages, the Parliamentary intelligence cut down to the barest summary, the cause célèbre dismissed with such a paragraph as ordinarily serves to chronicle an unimportant police court case. The Motor Pirate had nearly a monopoly of the space at the editorial disposal. There was column after column about him. The Plymouth robbery was reported in as great detail as the Compton Chamberlain affair, while there were particulars of two similar outrages committed at points between these two places.
On running my eye over the reports I saw that they added nothing to what I already knew, and I wasted no time in reading the leaders on the subject. I was, however, extremely interested to find from one paper that Winter and I had not been the only victims of the scoundrel's rapacity on the previous evening, for a brief telegram reported a similar occurrence a few miles from Oxford on the London road. I at once sent my man to purchase any of the early editions of the evening papers which might have reached St. Albans, in the hope that they might contain further particulars of these operations.
I had finished my breakfast, and was enjoying a cigarette in my library, when he returned. I took the papers from him, and the first glance at one of them made me gasp with amazement. The news which startled me was all in one line—"Five more cars held up by the Motor Pirate."
I am not going into details concerning these. If you have a desire to refresh your memory all you have to do is to turn to any newspaper of the date I have named and you will be able to get them ad nauseam. But I will venture to give a list of the places where and the times at which the outrages took place, for I made a list of them in the hope that, by carefully studying it with the map, I might get some idea as to where he might next be expected to make his appearance.