Then he reached a high and stout stone wall of difficulty. Was he to fall back on the subterfuge of "George Augustus Fitzroy," which, of course, was his proper signature in law? He disliked this veil of concealment more and more each instant, but it was manifestly out of the question that he should sign himself "Medenham," or "George," while he had fought several pitched battles at Harrow with classmates who pined to label him "Augustus," abbreviated. So, greatly daring, he wrote: "Mercury's Guv'nor," trusting to luck whether or not Cynthia's classical lore would remind her that Mercury was the son of Jupiter. He reread this effusion twice, and was satisfied with it as the herald of others. "My dear" sounded well; the intimacy of "our presence" was not overdone; while "yours ever sincerely" was excellent. He wondered if Cynthia would analyze it word for word in that fashion. Well, some day he might ask her. For the present he sealed the letter with a sigh and gave it to a waiter for safe delivery; he fancied, but could not be quite sure, that a good deal of unnecessary play with the motor's Gabriel horn five minutes later brought a slender muslined figure to a window of the then distant hotel. From Symon's Yat to Hereford is about fifteen miles, and Medenham drew out of the narrow lane leading from the river to Whitchurch about a quarter-past nine. Thenceforth a straight and good road lay clear before him, and he meant to break the law as to speed limit by traveling at the fastest rate compatible with his own safety and that of other road-users. It was no disgrace to the Mercury car, therefore, when a dull report and a sudden effort of the steering-wheel to swerve to the right betokened the collapse of an inner tube on the off side. From the motorist's point of view it was difficult to understand the cause of the mishap. The whole four tires were new so recently as the previous Monday, and Medenham was far too deeply absorbed in his own affairs to grasp the essential fact that Fate was still taking an intelligent interest in him. Of course, he did not hurry over the work as though his life depended on it. Even when the cover was replaced and the tire pumped to the proper degree of air-pressure he lit a cigarette and had a look at the magneto before restarting the engine. Two small boys had appeared from space, and he amused himself by asking them to reckon how long it would take two men to mow a field of grass which one of the men could mow in three days and the other in four. He promised a reward of sixpence if the correct answer were forthcoming in a minute, and raised it to a shilling during the next minute. This stimulated their wits to suggest "a day and three-quarters" instead of the first frantic effort of "three days and a half." "No," said he. "Think it over, ponder it with ardor, and if you have the right answer ready when I pass this way again about midday I'll give you a shilling each."