"What!" Whitworth dropped his knife and fork in astonishment.
"That's right, because I remember my uncle telling me about it."
"Good Lord! That little Bounce. Well, I'm hanged."
"My dear chap, Bounce is invincible. You ought to have seen him chuck a seven-foot policeman out of the works in this town one night."
Whitworth went on with his breakfast with a business like air. "I must find a job for Bounce," he said, decidedly. "What's his pay now?"
"That's been arranged; he's coming up north with me, driving on the test plate. He's worth his weight in gold there, so prompt, clear-headed, and reliable."
"Mean swine! Fancy keeping a man like that indoors driving dirty engines, he ought to be outside in the sun and the rain with the birds and the flowers."
Carstairs laughed. "When you've finished grubbing we'll get outside with the flowers and the birds," he said.
Shortly after they sallied forth together and went for a brisk walk in the country. Coming back they were just in time for the people trooping out of church, and who should they meet but Darwen, prayer book in hand, smiling, gay, as usual.
"Hullo, there's that chap—" Whitworth commenced.