It was about an hour later that the train, which had been taking
itself less seriously for some time, stopping at stations of quite
minor importance and generally showing a tendency to dawdle, halted
again. A board with the legend, 'Dreever,' in large letters showed
that they had reached their destination.
The station-master informed Lord Dreever that her ladyship had come
to meet the train in the motorcar, and was now waiting in the road
outside.
Lord Dreever's jaw fell.
'Oh, lord!' he said. 'She's probably motored in to get the afternoon
letters. That means, she's come in the runabout, and there's only
room for two of us in that. I forgot to telegraph that you were
coming, Pitt. I only wired about Hargate. Dash it, I shall have to
walk.'
His fears proved correct. The car at the station door was small. It
was obviously designed to seat four only.
Lord Dreever introduced Hargate and Jimmy to the statuesque lady in
the tonneau; and then there was an awkward silence.
At this point, Spike came up, chuckling amiably, with a magazine in
his hand.
'Gee!' said Spike. 'Say, boss, de mug what wrote dis piece must have
bin livin' out in de woods. Say, dere's a gazebo what wants to swipe
de heroine's jools what's locked in a drawer. So, dis mug, what 'do
you t'ink he does?' Spike laughed shortly, in professional scorn.
'Why--'
'Is this gentleman a friend of yours, Spennie?' inquired Lady
Julia politely, eying the red-haired speaker coldly.
'It's--' Spennie looked appealingly at Jimmy.
'It's my man,' said Jimmy. 'Spike,' he added in an undertone, 'to
the woods. Chase yourself. Fade away.'
'Sure,' said the abashed Spike. 'Dat's right. It ain't up to me to
come buttin' in. Sorry, boss. Sorry, gents. Sorry loidy. Me for de
tall grass.'
'There's a luggage-cart of sorts,' said Lord Dreever, pointing.
'Sure,' said Spike, affably. He trotted away.
'Jump in, Pitt,' said Lord Dreever. 'I'm going to walk.'
'No, I'll walk,' said Jimmy. 'I'd rather. I want a bit of exercise.
Which way do I go?'
'Frightfully good of you, old chap,' said Lord Dreever. 'Sure you
don't mind? I do bar walking. Right-ho! You keep straight on.'
He sat down in the tonneau by his aunt's side. The last Jimmy saw
was a hasty vision of him engaged in earnest conversation with Lady
Julia. He did not seem to be enjoying himself. Nobody is at his best
in conversation with a lady whom he knows to be possessed of a firm
belief in the weakness of his intellect. A prolonged conversation
with Lady Julia always made Lord Dreever feel as if he were being
tied into knots.
Jimmy watched them out of sight, and started to follow at a
leisurely pace. It certainly was an ideal afternoon for a country
