The old-time coachman possessed a certain fluent jargon, which enabled him to chide or encourage his horses and exchange suitable comments with the drivers of brewers' drays and market carts, but the modern chauffeur is all an ear for the rhythm of machinery, all an eye for the nice calculation of the hazards of the road fifty yards ahead.
At any rate, Downs mumbled something which resembled "Yes, sir," Forbes sprang in and slammed the door, Furneaux raced round the front of the car and perched himself beside Downs, and the heavy automobile was almost into its normal stride before it had traveled twice its own length.
Theydon was left gaping on the pavement.

He saw that the car turned west, and caught a glimpse of Furneaux's outstretched hand with forefinger pointing like the barrel of a pistol.
"Fool!" he cried, in bitter self-apostrophe.

"Why didn't I jump in after Forbes?
Now I am out of the hunt! I wonder what the deuce Furneaux saw or heard ?" That concluding thought sent him back to the flat, two steps at a time.
"Bates!" he shouted.

"Has Mr.Furneaux used the telephone, or did any one ring up ?" "No, sir," said Bates, coming hurriedly at that urgent call.

"Fust thing I knew was he was tearin' out, an' runnin' downstairs like mad." "O, double-distilled idiot that I am!" growled Theydon again.