them, it seemed, and shooting past a hand's breadth away. Montague
had just about made up his mind that one such ride would last him
for a lifetime, when he noticed that they were slacking up. "You can
let go the cord," said Oliver. "He'll never catch us now."

"What is the cord?" asked the other.

"It's tied to the tag with our number on, in back. It swings it up
so it can't be seen."

They were turning off into a country road, and Montague sank back
and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. "Is that a common
trick?" he asked.

"Quite," said the other. "Mrs. Robbie has a trough of mud in their
garage, and her driver sprinkles the tag every time before she goes
out. You have to do something, you know, or you'd be taken up all
the time."

"Have you ever been arrested?"

"I've only been in court once," said Oliver. "I've been stopped a
dozen times."

"What did they do the other times--warn you?"

"Warn me?" laughed Oliver. "What they did was to get in with me and
ride a block or two, out of sight of the crowd; and then I slipped
them a ten-dollar bill and they got out."