Berry And Co. | Page 8

with the push-bike again. Of course he was one of the gang, and his fall was a put-up job to get Will out of the way. Pretty smart--what?
"Well, you hadn't been gone five minutes when Fitch arrived on his motor-bike. He'd come to bring us a can of petrol, for after we'd left he remembered the tank was almost empty.
"That gave me a bit of hope. If they stuck to the main road you were pretty well bound to catch them, for Fitch swore they'd never get five miles. But, of course, they might turn off. So I thought the rest of us had better follow and search the by-roads for all we were worth. So I sat on Fitch's carrier with the can under one arm, and Daphne commandeered the curate's push-bike and sent Berry after us."
"Isn't he back yet?" said I, looking round.
"Not yet," said Jonah, with a grin.
"And doesn't he know she's found?"
"That pleasure is still awaiting him. Well, Fitch was right. We left the Bloodstock road for the second time at Dew Thicket, and at the foot of the hill there she was, dry as a bone, but as right as rain."
"Abandoned?"
"Apparently. Any way, there was no one in sight. I sent Fitch after you and drove her home. Fitch had a burst directly he'd left me, and had to walk back to Bilberry."
"Is that all?" said I.
"Well, it's enough, isn't it?"
"Not nearly," said I, rising to my feet. "Kindly accompany me to the stables."
"What d'you mean, Boy?" cried Jill.
"'Sh!" said I. "Come and see."
In silence I led the way, Agatha treading solemnly by my side. As we turned under the archway that led to the stable-yard--
"You see," I said carelessly, "we, too, have met with some success."
The Rolls was standing where I had left her, waiting to be backed into the garage.
My sister gave a cry and caught at Jonah's arm. Jonah started violently and smothered an exclamation. Jill put one hand to her eyes, as if to brush away a vision.
There was a long silence.
At length I turned to Jonah.
"I fear that you were hasty, brother. A moment's reflection will show you that you and Fitch have spoiled some poor car-owner's day. Let me suggest that you return your ill-gotten gains to the foot of the hill beyond Dew Thicket without delay. As a matter of fact, I know the police are very concerned about this theft. It was the fourth in this district this morning."
Fitch came forward, touching his hat.
"It's a mistake anybody might make, sir. They're as like as two pins." He pointed to the car. "She's the spit of ours, she is."
"Don't be silly," said I. "I admit they're exactly alike, but that's ours."
Fitch shook his head.
"Different chassis number, sir, to say nothing of the number-plates."
I stared at him. Then--
"Nonsense," I said sturdily.
"It's a fact, sir. The one in the front's ours. I'm afraid you've stole somebody else's car."
* * * * *
We had returned to the front of the house and were wondering what to do, when our attention was attracted by a sudden outburst of cries and the noise of a car's tires tearing at the road. This lay but a hundred odd yards away on the farther side of the brown stream by which the lawn was edged. For the length of a cricket pitch the hedgerow bounding the highway was visible from where we stood, and as this was not more than four feet high, we were able to observe a scene which was clearly but the prologue to a drama in which we were presently to appear.
Under the explosive directions of a man in a grey hat, who was standing upright and holding on to the wind-screen, frantic efforts were being made to turn what seemed to be a small touring car. Even as we looked, a savage gesture in our direction suggested that our friend was identifying the Rolls by our side as stolen property for the benefit of four individuals who crouched timorously behind him. To my consternation I observed that these were no less than an inspector and three constables of the County Police.
The next minute the car had been turned round and was being driven rapidly back to our lodge-gates.
"Leave them to me," said Jonah quietly. "Go and sit down on the lawn, all of you. I'll fix them."
* * * * *
"That's the fellow," said Grey Hat, in a shaking voice, "and that's his accomplice." He pointed a fat hand at myself and Agatha in turn.
"I beg your pardon," said Jonah. Grey Hat turned and looked him up and down. "Were you wanting anything? I mean, I live here."
"I don't know who you are," came the reply. "But that's my car, and those are the people who stole it."
"One thing at