"I am. You want to see me?"
"I'm the Mayor of Pudlington. This is my friend Ebenezer Saunders, who's come for to tender for the camp waste."
"As per advertisement," added Saunders.
There was something aggressive in each man's manner of speech. The colonel looked at his wrist watch.
"The time mentioned was twelve o'clock, gentlemen. It is now eight minutes past. You are eight minutes too late."
"You won't draw the line so tight," said Noakes. "A few minutes are neither here nor there in a matter of this sort, and as the Mayor of Pudlington——
"Excuse me, Mr. Mayor——"
"But it's all along o' this infernal machine," cried Noakes, angrily, throwing out his hand towards the road yacht. "It was on the wrong side o' the road, and we couldn't pass it no-how; obstructing of the king's highway: that's what it was; and as the Mayor of Pudlington I'll have the law of them, that I will."
"Oh, come, Mr. Noakes," said Eves, pleasantly. "You tried that once before, you know. You remember my friend Templeton, even if you've forgotten me. As a matter of fact, sir," he added, turning to the colonel, "they overdrove their car, and the big ends dropped off; otherwise—well, I shouldn't have been surprised if there'd been a bit of a scrap somewhere about the top of the hill."
"There would," said O'Reilly, decisively. "And what's more, it was the car that blocked the road, and a mighty fine trouble we had, the way we'd circumvent the creature."