Jonah and Co. Yates Dornford

brother shook his head.

      "I don't want," he said, "to be arrested for loitering."

      "Don't you worry," said Berry. "We wouldn't be seen with you."

      Jonah sighed.

      "Where there's a will there's a way," he murmured.

      "More," said Berry. "We regard you rather less than the dust beneath our detachable wheels. You pollute the road with your hoghood. I suppose it's no use asking you to keep behind us."

      "None whatever," replied our cousin. "Why should we?"

      "Well," said Berry, "supposing a tire discovers that I'm driving and bursts with pride, who's going to change the wheel?"

      Jonah stifled a yawn.

      "You can't have it both ways," he said. "If we're to warn people not to shoot at you, we must be in front."

      Berry regarded his finger-nails.

      "Perhaps you're right," he said. "Think of me when you get your third puncture, won't you? And remember that my heart goes out to you in your tire trouble and that you have all my love. Then you won't sweat so much."

      Half an hour later Pong stormed out of the garage and into the Place des Epars.

      Adèle's wish had been granted, and she was travelling with Berry and me instead of with Jonah.

      For this new order of battle Nobby was solely responsible. Upon the first day's journey the terrier had whined all the way to Rouen because he had wanted to be with me. As one of his audience, Jonah had been offensively outspoken regarding this predilection. Upon the following day the dog's desire had been gratified, whereupon he had whined all the way to Chartres because he was apart from Adèle. Commenting upon this unsuspected devotion, Berry had been quite as outspoken as Jonah, and much more offensive. Naturally, to withstand such importunity was out of the question, and, since it was impossible for me to leave Berry, the line of least resistance was followed, and Daphne and Adèle changed places.

      Our way out of Chartres was short and simple, and, with the exception of temporarily obstructing two trams by the artless expedient of remaining motionless upon the permanent way, Pong emerged from the city without a stain upon his character.

      The Vendôme road looked promising and proved excellent. Very soon we were flying. For all that, Jonah overtook us as we were nearing Bonneval. …

      It was some thirty minutes later, as we were leaving Châteaudun, that a sour-faced gendarme with a blue nose motioned to us to stop. Standing upon the near pavement, the fellow was at once conversing with a postman and looking malevolently in our direction. I think we all scented mischief.

      "What can he want?" growled Berry, as he brought the car to a standstill.

      "He's probably being officious," said I, getting our papers ready. "We're strangers, and he's in a bad humour. Consequently, he's going to scrutinise our triptyque, passports, passes and certificates, to see if he can accuse us of anything. Happily they're all in order, so he'll be disappointed. When he's thoroughly satisfied that he can bring no charge against us, he'll order us to proceed."

      "He's taking his time about it," observed my brother-in-law.

      I looked up from the documents.

      My gentleman was still talking to the postman, while his pig's eyes were still surveying the car. From his companion's demeanour, he seemed to be whetting his wit at our expense.

      "This is intolerable," said I. "Ask him what he wants, lady."

      Adèle leaned forward and put her head out of the window.

      "I think you wished us to stop, Monsieur?"

      The gendarme waved his hand.

      "Wait," he said insolently.

      The postman sniggered shamefacedly.

      Adèle sank back in her seat, her cheeks flaming.

      In a voice trembling with passion I conjured Berry to proceed.

      The moment the car moved, the official sprang forward, gesticulating furiously.

      As we passed him, I put out my head.

      "Now it's our turn," I said warmly, "to make the postman laugh."

      From the hoarse yells which followed us, it was clear that we had left the fellow beside himself with rage. Looking back through the little window, I could see him dancing. Suddenly he stopped, peered after us, and then swung about and ran ridiculously up the street.

      "Blast him, he's going to telephone!" said I. "Where's the map?"

      Together Adèle and I pored over the sections.

      "If," said Berry, "you're going to direct me to turn off, for Heaven's sake be quick about it. At the present moment I'm just blinding along into the blue and, for all I know, an oversized hornets' nest. Of course they mayn't sting when there's an 'r' in the month, but then they mightn't know that. Or am I thinking of oysters?"

      "They'll stop us at Vendôme," said I. "Not before. Right oh! We must turn to the right at Cloyes and make for St. Calais. We can get round to Tours that way. It'll take us about twenty miles out of our way, but——"

      "Yes, and when we don't show up at Vendôme, they'll wire to Calais.

       Seriously, as Shakespeare says, I'm all of a doo-dah."

      That we should be stopped at St. Calais was not likely, and I said as much. What did worry me, because it was far more probable, was that when they drew blank at Vendôme, the authorities would telephone to Tours. Any apprehension, however, regarding our reception at that city was soon mercifully, unmercifully, and somewhat paradoxically overshadowed by a more instant anxiety lest we should never arrive there at all. From the moment we left the main road, the obstacles in the shape of uncharted roads and villages, pavements, cattle, goats, a horse fair, and finally a series of appalling gradients, opposed our passage. All things considered, my brother-in-law drove admirably. But it was a bad business, and, while my wife and Berry were very staunch, I think we all regretted that I had been so high with Blue Nose.

      Night had fallen ere we slunk into Tours.

      Fully expecting to find that the others had well-nigh given us up, we were astounded to learn at the hotel that Ping had not yet arrived. Indeed, we had finished dinner, and were debating seriously whether we should take a hired car and go to seek them, when there was a flurry of steps in the corridor, Nobby rushed to the door, and the next moment Daphne and Jill burst into the room.

      "My darling," said Berry, advancing, "where on earth have you been?"

      My sister put her arms about his neck and looked into his eyes.

      "Kiss me 'Good-bye,'" she said. "Jonah's just coming."

      Her husband stared at her. Then—

      "Is it as bad as all that?" he said. "Dear, dear. And how did he get the booze?"

      Somebody cleared his throat.

      I swung round, to see Jonah regarding us.

      "You three beauties," he said. "Four with Nobby."

      "But what do you mean?" said Adèle. "What have we done?"

      "Done?" cried Jonah. "Done? Where d'you think we've been?"

      "It can't have been goats that stopped you," said Berry, "because I had all the goats. There was a great rally of goats at St. Calais this afternoon. It was a wonderful smell—I mean sight."

      "Guess again," said Jonah grimly.

      "You haven't been waiting for us on the road?" said I.

      "You're getting warmer," was the reply.

      Adèle gave a sudden cry.

      "O-o-oh, Jonah," she