Mr. Mablethorpe, having safely negociated the gateway,--no light feat, considering the amount of play on his steering-wheel,--turned sharp to the right and proceeded northward. Presently he came to four cross-roads. At the foot of the signpost sat a small, sturdy, and well-dressed boy, with short, curly, red hair and hazel-green eyes. As the car slowed down in case of cross traffic the boy rose to his feet, and ranging up alongside asked a polite question. Mr. Mablethorpe leaned over as far as he could. "Is it _very_ important?" he yelled above the din. "If I stop this engine to listen to you I may never be able to start it again." Philip replied with the full pressure of his lungs, but the only distinguishable word was "Coventry." The amiable Mr. Mablethorpe accordingly switched off the current, and the engine clanked itself into a state of coma. "Now let us hear all about it," he said. "Can you please tell me the way to Coventry?" enquired Philip. "Coventry--eh? Have you been sent there?" Mr. Mablethorpe's eye twinkled. "No. I'm going of my own accord," said Philip innocently. "First time I have heard of a man sending himself to Coventry," mused Mr. Mablethorpe. He surveyed Philip's bewildered face with interest. "Perhaps you don't catch the allusion, though. Don't you ever send any one to Coventry at school?" "I have never been to school, sir," replied Philip. "That's a pity," said Mr. Mablethorpe. "But to resume. Coventry must be a good eighty miles from here. Do you propose to walk?" "Yes." Mr. Mablethorpe eyed the pedestrian curiously. "Running away?" he asked. "Sort of," admitted Philip. "Well, I have only one motto in life," said Mr. Mablethorpe, "and that is, 'Mind your own business!' So I will refrain from comment. I don't know where Coventry is, but I should think you would not go far wrong if you kept along this road, and asked again later. Now, with your permission, I must be getting on." Mr. Mablethorpe had not proceeded far on his way--to his surprise and gratification the engine had come to life almost immediately--when his conscience smote him. "I might have offered the little beggar a lift," he said to himself. "Silly not to have thought of it. He has a longish journey before him--that is, if Papa doesn't lay him by the heels. I might stop and let him overtake me. I wonder where he is." He leaned over the side of the car and surveyed the road behind him. The car, which had been waiting for some such opportunity as this all morning, promptly mounted the footpath and charged a hedge. Fortunately it was climbing a hill on its first speed at the time, so the results of the impact were not serious. Mr. Mablethorpe, who was quite accustomed to mishaps of this kind, stopped his engine, and descended to earth to review the situation. The first object which met his eye was Philip--a little blown and obviously taken by surprise--standing in the road with one hand still upon the Cape-cart hood.