"America, my boy, is only in the primary department. Kitty's manager forgot the most important thing of the whole outfit."
"What's that?"
"The Itching Palm. Evidently it had not been properly soothed. Come on; we may run across some of our ship-acquaintances. To-morrow we'll start for Rome, and then we shall add our own investigations to those of the consul."
They had ridden up and down the Via Caracciolo twice when they espied a huge automobile, ultramarine blue. It passed with a cloud of dust and a rumble which was thunderous. Hillard half rose from his seat.
"Somebody you know?" asked Merrihew.
"The man at the wheel looked a bit like Sandford."
"Sandford? By George, that would be jolly!"
"Perhaps they will come this way again. Tomass', follow that motor."
Sure enough, when the car reached the Largo Vittoria, it wheeled and came rumbling back. This time Hillard had no doubts. He stood up and waved his arms. The automobile barked and groaned and came to a stand.
"Hello, Sandford!"