"Under an hour; but there's the specification to copy out."
"I'll do that. Hand over. We'll be ready in an hour, Mr. O'Reilly."
"Then I'll run back to the town and fill up my tank and see to my tyres and lamps," said O'Reilly. "Be you ready when I call for you, and with luck and no punctures we'll be in London by six o'clock."
He gulped a glass of champagne and hurried from the room.
The two lads went on steadily with their tasks. Templeton was finished first, and going to his desk scrawled a hasty note, which he placed in an envelope, and was addressing when Eves sprang up.
"That's done," he said, flinging down his pen. "What are you writing to Wilkins for?"
"Just to tell him I shan't be at the shop till Thursday."
"I wouldn't tell the brute anything."
"Well, you see, there's nothing proved yet, and——"
"And Noakes, I suppose, has gone up to town to leave his card on the King! Bob, you're an ass. But drink up your fizz; it's pretty flat. I hear the car. It'll be a pretty cold ride; rather sport, though."