"By George, Bob," cried Eves, "that green car that called at the garage is upon our heels."
"I hear it," said Templeton. "Couldn't mistake it: I'll give it room to pass."
Before the yacht had gamed the top of the hill the following car, hooting continuously, closed with it and dashed past.
"I say, Bob," shouted Eves, "did you see who was in it?"
"No. Didn't look. Who is it?"
"Rabbit-skin and Noakes."
"Our Noakes?"
"Philemon, as sure as a gun."
"Our worthy mayor, evidently. Rummy!"
"What was that you said?" asked Eves, turning to the Irishman, who had uttered a sharp exclamation as the car ran by.