“If anyone moves,” said Mansel, “I’m going to fire.” The windows of the car were open, so they heard what he said. “You’ve tried to stop me by force and you’ve pursued me; and at the first town I come to I’m going to prefer a charge. My papers are all in order; I’ve a licence to carry a pistol; and my luggage is in the car. Perhaps you can say the same. If you can’t, you’ll be detained—pending inquiries.”
“Bluff,” said someone.
“Then call it,” said Mansel.
“You’ve assaulted us,” said another. “I asked you a civil question, an’ you slogged me under the jaw. An’ you talk about the police.”
“Yes,” said Mansel, “I do. Because my record’s clean. Then again, I speak German quite well; and that’s a great help.”
“Bluff,” said the first speaker. “You know as well as I do that you won’t go to the police. You can’t afford to.”
“If you mean,” said Mansel, “that I don’t want to waste my time, that’s perfectly true.”
“I don’t,” said the other. “I mean that, much as you like ’em, the last thing you want just now is to catch the eye of the police.”
Mansel raised his eyebrows.
“I’m not going to argue,” he said, “but I can’t help thinking that you’re mistaking me for somebody else. Excuse me,” and, with that, he fired.
The silence which succeeded the explosion was that of the grave. I had, of course, jumped violently and now sat still in my seat, as if under a spell, though my heart was pounding like a labouring pump and I was expecting every instant the shock of battle. But this did not come. So far as I could see by the mirror, those in the closed car were sitting as still as I, and, after a moment or two, Mansel spoke again.
“The next time anyone moves, I shall try to hit him,” he said. “And I think perhaps it would be better if you all four folded your arms. Thank you.”
“Today to you,” said the man who had spoken last.
“Indubitably,” said Mansel.
Then we were left to our thoughts, and to wonder if ever the train was coming by.
I was disquieted.
Mansel had spoken boldly, but you cannot make bricks without straw, and the man who had taken him up was not even shaken, very much less deceived. For the moment we had them in check, but the changes and chances of the road were manifold, and, unless we could run right away, as like as not we should be cornered again. And the next time they would be more careful.
It was while I was thinking of these things that I happened to lower my eyes to the mat at my feet, and there, beneath me, I saw an adjustable spanner. Mansel had used it that morning to tighten a bolt, and, in his haste, had omitted to put it away.
Shakespeare has said somewhere that “the sight of means to do ill deeds, Makes deeds ill done.” So it was with the spanner. For directly I saw it, I thought that here was the means to spoil the petrol-tank of the closed car and so put the enemy out of action.
I picked up the spanner, slid this into my pocket and turned to Hanbury.
“Take my place,” I said quietly. “I’m going to disable their car.”
Hanbury blinked once or twice and gulped as though he would protest, so soon as he found his tongue; but I opened my door and stepped out without more ado.
I sauntered up to the barrier and glanced up and down the rails. Then I turned round and looked at the two cars.
Hanbury was in my place and Mansel did not seem to have moved. He was sitting easily sideways, covering the car with his pistol and supporting his right wrist with his left arm. The four men, of whom Ellis was not one, were wearing blue glasses and sitting like images, with folded arms.
I stepped to the radiator of the Rolls, unscrewed the cap and peered within. Then I frowned and, spanner plainly in hand, stooped as though to tighten the plug. After appearing and disappearing once or twice, I replaced the cap, still frowning, and disappeared again. A moment later I was beneath the car. It was a tight fit, but the pulse of the closed car’s engine covered the noise I made. I worked along on my back as best I could, until my head was level with the Rolls’ hind wheels. To pass from beneath the Rolls to beneath the closed car meant crossing about six feet of open road, but there was not more than a yard between the two cars’ wings, and, though, from where I lay, I could see the hat of the man beside the driver, I judged that, unless he moved, the strip of road I must pass was just out of his sight. So, since to see where I was going was now essential, I turned very gently upon my face and took a deep breath. Inch by inch I covered those six feet of open road, and I must admit that I did it with my heart in my mouth, for I could by no means be sure that I was not in some view, and, though I hoped for the best, once one of the enemy knew that I was beneath their car, pistol or no, it was most unlikely that they would make no attempt to learn my business.
At last, however, it was over, and I was well out of sight and under the closed car.
I turned again upon my back, and there I lay for a moment to get my breath, for the strain of moving so flat upon my face had been exhausting, and the heat and noise of the engine at such close quarters had been unpleasant. I was, too, half choked and blinded with the dust, which hereabouts lay very thick.
As
