"Pity we didn't stick to the car," remarked Alec regretfully, as puffed and pouring with perspiration they made their way back to the victim of the attack. "I bet we would have run at least two of them to earth. Fine sport it would have been, and the grass makes good going. Hallo! He's up again."
Claverhouse indicated the unfortunate motor-cyclist, who, holding one arm below the elbow, was ruefully contemplating his steed.
"Hurt, sir?" inquired Villiers.
"Scratch," replied the other with equal laconism.
Then, as if the presence of his rescuers was unnoticed, he fumbled with the fingers of his uninjured arm until he succeeded in opening the leather case on the carrier.
Apparently his investigations were satisfactory, for, closing the lid, he turned towards the three chums.
"Thanks, awfully, for your timely assistance," he exclaimed. "It was very remiss of me not to say so before, but my head feels a trifle dizzy. I'm afraid I haven't quite got the hang of things yet."
"Let me bind your arm," suggested Beverley. "It is bleeding rather badly."
"So it is," admitted the stranger. "I hardly noticed it, but it's tingling a bit now."
Villiers helped him off with his motor-cycling coat and jacket and rolled up his sleeve.