"Yes," he agreed, bravely poisoning the helpless atmosphere, "this is better suited to the occasion." "A bit of all right, eh? I can't stand the Count's cigarettes eether--French rubbish, you know. An' the money they run into--well, there!" "But if he is a rich man----" "Rich!" Smith exploded with merriment. "If he had what he owes he might worry along for a year or so, but, you mark my words, if he doesn't--Well, it's no business of mine, only just keep your eyes open. You're going through with this tour?" "I--believe so," said Medenham slowly--and thus he took the great resolution which till that moment was dim in his mind. "In that case we'll be having a jaw some other time, and then, mebbe, we'll both be older an' wiser." Notwithstanding the community of taste established by Smith's weeds, the man was still furtively racking his brains to account for certain discrepancies in his new acquaintance's bearing and address. Medenham's hands, for instance, were too well kept. His boots were of too good a quality. His reindeer driving gloves, discarded and lying on the front seat, were far too costly. The disreputable linen coat might hide many details, but not these. Every now and then Smith wanted to say "sir," and he wondered why. Medenham was sure that at the back of Smith's head lay some scheme, some arranged trick, some artifice of intrigue that would find its opportunity between Cheddar and Bristol. The distance was not great--perhaps eighteen miles--by a fairly direct second-class road, and on this fine June evening it was still safe to count on three long hours of daylight. It was doubly irritating, therefore, to think that by his own lack of diplomacy he had almost forfeited Smith's confidence. Twice had the man been on the very brink of revelation, for he was one of those happy-go-lucky beings not fitted for the safeguarding of secrets, yet on each occasion his tongue faltered in subconscious knowledge that he was about to betray his master's affairs. Feeling that Dale would have managed this part of the day's adventures far better than himself, Medenham took his seat and touched the switch. "We have to make Bristol by seven o'clock, so I shall pull out in front; I suppose Count Marigny will give the ladies the road?" he remarked casually. Smith was listening to the engine. "Runs like a watch, don't it?" was his admiring cry. "And almost as quietly, so you heard what I said." "Oh, I hear lots, but I reckon it a good plan to keep my mouth shut," grinned the other. "Exactly what you have failed to do," thought Medenham, though he nodded pleasantly, and, with a "So long!" passed out of the yard. Smith went to the exit and looked after him. The man's face wore a good-humored sneer. It was as though he said: "You wait a bit, my dandy shuffer--you ain't through with his Countship yet--not by any manner o' means."