"I want to get back to civilization and set an excavating party with
pickaxes to work on me."
"You take too gloomy a view of the matter. You are a little dusty.
Nothing more."
"And it's not only the being buried alive that I mind. I cannot stick
Ralph Bingham much longer."
"You have found him trying?"
"Trying! Why, after I had fallen into that ditch and was coming up for
the third time, all the man did was simply to call to me to admire an
infernal iron shot he had just made. No sympathy, mind you! Wrapped up
in himself. Why don't you make your man give up the match? He can't
win."
"I refuse to admit it. Much may happen between here and Royal Square."
I have seldom known a prophecy more swiftly fulfilled. At this moment
the doors of the Woodfield Garage opened and a small car rolled out
with a grimy young man in a sweater at the wheel. He brought the
machine out into the road, and alighted and went back into the garage,
where we heard him shouting unintelligibly to someone in the rear
premises. The car remained puffing and panting against the kerb.
Pages:
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215