"But you don't understand," says Pyramid. "I said this was a private car—private car!"
"Don't shout," says Sir Peter. "I'm not deaf. I'd lend you a bucket if I had an extra one; but I haven't. Danvers!"
This time Danvers edged in with one of those sole-leather cases that an Englishman carries his plug-hat in.
"Don't you think, Sir Peter—" says he.
"Yes; but you don't," says Sir Peter. "Hurry on, now!"
And I'll be welched if Danvers didn't dig a wooden pail out of that hat-case and hand it over. Sir Peter chucks the cap, puts on the pail, drops the handle under his chin, and stretches out on a corner sofa as peaceful as a bench-duster in the park.
"Looks like he's got his wheels all under cover," says I. "Great scheme—every man his own garage."
"Who is he?" says Mr. Gordon to Danvers.