"Coventry—eh? Have you been sent there?" Mr. Mablethorpe's eye twinkled.
"No. I'm going of my own accord," said Philip innocently.
"First time I have heard of a man sending himself to Coventry," mused Mr. Mablethorpe. He surveyed Philip's bewildered face with interest. "Perhaps you don't catch the allusion, though. Don't you ever send any one to Coventry at school?"
"I have never been to school, sir," replied Philip.
"That's a pity," said Mr. Mablethorpe. "But to resume. Coventry must be a good eighty miles from here. Do you propose to walk?"
"Yes."
Mr. Mablethorpe eyed the pedestrian curiously. "Running away?" he asked.
"Sort of," admitted Philip.
"Well, I have only one motto in life," said Mr. Mablethorpe, "and that is, 'Mind your own business!' So I will refrain from comment. I don't know where Coventry is, but I should think you would not go far wrong if you kept along this road, and asked again later. Now, with your permission, I must be getting on."
Mr. Mablethorpe had not proceeded far on his way—to his surprise and gratification the engine had come to life almost immediately—when his conscience smote him.