benefit, and he straightway hit the pike in pursuit.  Where the country was open we kept well in the rear, but crept closer in villages and towns.  We had to stop at Tunbridge Wells for petrol, but that didn’t cut any ice, because Jackson knew the country like a book, and we sighted the automobile within five minutes, though the milestones were pretty numerous during that run.  After that, nothing particularly happened, except to a hen and a dog, until we came near Croydon—­ that is, I knew it was Croydon because Jackson said so, and I have considerable faith in him.  In between whiles, where there was nothing doing, he and I fixed up an automobile tour.  Well, outside Croydon, there’s a new road, with a half-built villa at the near end and a way-back farmhouse at the other end.  That villa was the one thing needed when the thug made a bee-line for the farm.  I jumped out, told Jackson to find something to do to his machine at the corner of the next block, and hurried into the Alpine chalet.  From a top back room I watched Silk Hat carrying a lady into the farm.  Eh, what’s that?  Yes, he was carrying her.  I guess he’d given her a dope so as to stop any cry for help.  It made me feel pretty mean to be standing there without taking a hand in the deal, but I forced myself to believe that another hour or two couldn’t make such a heap of difference to the lady, while it would be better to leave things to the police.  I waited just twenty minutes—­ I have all the times scheduled—­ until the car came back.  By hurrying downstairs I was able to look inside as it passed, and Silk Hat was alone.  He took the London road.  I strolled out—­ didn’t dare to hurry, you know, in case any one might be watching from the farm—­ and put in some hard thinking while walking to Jackson’s stand.  There were two courses open, either to send Jackson after the auto and try myself to get in touch with you and the police, or put Jackson on guard near the farm.  Whether I decided rightly or not I haven’t a notion, but I let the car go, and for this reason:  We know where the lady is, and so does the thug; if the police put up a hard game they can rescue her without his knowledge and spread a web for the fly to walk into later.  But they must get a move on.  This phone is nearly a mile from the farm, and Jackson is tightening nuts outside the villa I spoke of.  Now, what’s the next item on the program?”

Winter grabbed the receiver unceremoniously.

“I am a representative of Scotland Yard, Mr. Handyside,” he said.  “If ever you want work come to me, J. L. Winter, and I’ll find you some.  Miss Forbes is vexed with me because I have stopped her from thanking you, but compliments must wait.  Will you go as quickly as possible to the chief police station at Croydon?  By the time you get there I’ll be in touch with the inspector in charge, and he will do the rest.  You understand?  Goodby!”

Winter rang off.  He smiled blandly at Evelyn.

“There’s no opportunity now for sentiment,” he explained.  “Our American friend will appreciate quick action far more than talk.”