Gerard got out and emptied the kerosene from the oil lamps into
the exhaust valves. You see, pieces of scale from the inside of
the cylinders had wedged against the exhaust-valve seats so that
they wouldn't close tight, but leaked and leaked. Gerard said
that new Mantons always feed too rich a mixture at first and that
he knew what was the matter the moment he stuck his fingers in.

"We went home on the second speed so that Gerard could steer with
one hand.

"Oh, the captain? He acted kind of miserable at first, and was
awfully sarcastic about being a gentleman and not a gas-engineer.
But I said the modern idea was to be both. He got himself
transferred home and I really think it was the making of him--for
what do you think happened last week? He won the nonstop London
to Glasgow race on an eighteen horsepower Renault. I felt quite
proud of him.

"He has asked Gerard and me and the Manton to spend a month with
him in England when we go abroad. He said I'd probably be
pleased to hear that he had made a lovely garage out of his
ancestral Norman chapel. But I suppose that was just his English
humor, you know. Anyway, we are the best of friends, and if I
ever see him again I'll give him a double toot on my French
horn."

"And what became of the curate and Gerard's sister?"

"Oh, they married and went into steam."