"You see," continued my friend, tersely--"it is carte blanche. I wish
to commandeer your car, sir, on a matter of life and death!".

The other returned the letter.

"Allow me to offer it!" he said, descending. "My man will take your
orders. I can finish my journey by cab. I am--"

But Smith did not wait to learn whom he might be.

"Quick!" he cried to the stupefied chauffeur--"You passed a car a
minute ago--yonder. Can you overtake it?"

"I can try, sir, if I don't lose her track."

Smith leaped in, pulling me after him.

"Do it!" he snapped. "There are no speed limits for me. Thanks!
Goodnight, sir!"

We were off! The car swung around and the chase commenced.

One last glimpse I had of the man we had dispossessed, standing alone
by the roadside, and at ever increasing speed, we leaped away in the
track of Eltham's captors.

Smith was too highly excited for ordinary conversation, but he threw
out short, staccato remarks.