"Besides, M.Lautrec will have wired to look out for them." And he set the car going.
"Oh, they're bound for Genoa, sure enough," said Sir Tancred.

"But they won't enter it in that carriage, or much before daybreak.

Still the rascals don't know that you've come, Mr.Rainer, and that we're already on their track.

That ought to spoil their game." The car ran through Mentone, and into Ventimiglia, but as it drew near the custom-house, Sir Tancred cried, "By Jove, we're going to be delayed! The guard's turned out!" And sure enough, a dozen soldiers barred the road.
Tinker stopped the car: and a sergeant bade Sir Tancred and Mr.Rainer come with him to the officer in command.

Tinker gave his father the pocketbook which contained their passports; the two of them got out of the car, and followed the sergeant into the custom-house.
Tinker jumped down, and sure that he had plenty of time, looked at the machinery and filled up the petrol tank from a gallon tin in the back of the car.