“‘And we shall never cease to regret, I guess,’ said the second, ‘that we have missed the most valuable item of your lordship’s collection of silver heirlooms. But we have garnered many precious momentos’—it struck me at that moment that there were a great many waterproof-covered bundles in the ‘Runhard’ car, and as he spoke he patted one of these affectionately—‘of our visit to this country which must serve to sweeten life for us when we are far away. And with these we must endeavor to be content!’
“He too bowed, dear fellars, and got into the car. The machinery began to splutter at a touch upon the lever.
“‘Let ’er rip, Cocky,’ advised the third stranger; ‘we ain’t got none too much of a start with this yere tire a-busting. So long!’ he said, and like an arrow from a bow, so to put it, dear fellars, the large, light green ‘Runhard’ leapt forward and was out of sight in an instant. We proceeded in the ‘Rusher’ toward our destination.
“Presently, dear fellars, we met two large, hot, county constables on bicycles. They did not recognize us, so great was their haste. Their large boots vigorously trod the pedals, their bulky, blue-uniformed figures were crouched over the handle-bars as they pounded up the hill from Cluckham Pomphrey. We wondered whither they might be going? We questioned what agricultural breach of the peace, what local felony, had spurred them to such an unusual display of energy. We found out.
“For at the next bend of the road, dear fellars, we encountered quite a little cavalcade of hot and red-faced, or pale and panting persons. The steward from Pomphrey Towers in his T-cart, the head-bailiff from Pomphrey Towers on his cob, the coachman driving a light gig with two armed grooms on the back seat, an excited mob of stable-helpers and gardeners straggling along behind.... Even before they recognized us, those in the van of the pursuers shouted to us, asking if we had passed an automobile upon the road—a large, light green ‘Runhard’ containing three men?
“In a few gasped sentences, dear fellars, the ghastly truth stood revealed; the facts were laid bare to us. Pomphrey Towers had been, to employ the expression of the bailiff, ‘cracked and burgled,’ only an hour previously, of a quantity of silver articles and a mass of valuable plate. Lord Pomphrey and myself had met the burglars upon the road, had supplied them with the means of continuing their flight, had entered into conversation with them, and returned their polite farewells.
“We joined the pursuit, all thoughts of golf submerged in the bosom of Lord Pomphrey, beneath the boiling lava-flood of rage and indignation. To be robbed is bad; to be placed in the position of confederate to the robbers, unknowing aider and abettor of their nefarious flight, is maddening. The three polite individuals in the large, light green motor-car have not, up to the present, been traced. One small spoon of the Apostle-headed kind, found by the roadside where they replaced their own deflated tire, with that so generously bestowed upon them by Lord Pomphrey, is the only clue so far.
“A distressin’ experience, dear fellars!—confoundedly so in the estimation of this humble individual. Thanks, I will take another of those long Dutch cigars and a Scotch, with Hebinaris’—the new mineral water, do you foller me?—with iridescent bubbles that snap at your nose. My love to you, dear fellars, and a Happy New Year!�
THE LOST ROOM
THEY were going to part at last—to separate quietly, but formally—after a married life of nearly three years.