Examination proved that it was rideable, although the front wheel was slightly buckled and the exhaust-lever cable had snapped. "You'd better come in the car," suggested Claverhouse, when the bandaging operation was completed. "One of my friends can ride your bike." "I'd be eternally grateful," replied the motor-cyclist. "I'm not much of a hand at this sort of game, but with this wretched railway strike on, what is a fellow to do?" "It's no use hanging on to the slack," observed Claverhouse, moving in the direction of the car. "Jump in and let's get along. First stop Winchester, I presume?" "What for?" asked the stranger. "Not on my account?" "But surely," said Claverhouse, in astonishment, "you are going to inform the police?" "A waste of valuable time," objected the other. "No, if you don't mind dropping me in Southampton I'll be doubly obliged. I'll take that attaché case with me, if you please." "Good enough," agreed Claverhouse. "Beverley, dear old soul, you're riding the bike, I believe?" "That is so," admitted Bobby. "And," continued Alec, with a grin, "you think you'll hang on to us? You'll be dropped, old son, for a dead cert. So don't you think it would be just as well to ask this gentleman's address? Where shall we put you down, sir?" he asked, turning to the stranger. "Richborough Chambers," was the unexpected reply. "Well, I'm hanged!" exclaimed Villiers. "That's rummy--very. Do you happen to know of a fellow who, for certain reasons, calls himself 'Joystick'?" A faint smile overspread the man's bull-dog features. "I am 'Joystick'," he replied. CHAPTER III Signing On For some minutes "Joystick" remained silent, enjoying the obvious astonishment of the trio. "You need not introduce yourselves," he continued. "You are Robert Beverley; you are Jack Villiers, and you are Alec Claverhouse--I presume you pronounce your name in Scots' fashion." "You are a veritable Sherlock Holmes," declared Villiers. The other raised a hand deprecatingly. "I cannot aspire to that degree of intelligence," he remarked. "So, to remove misunderstandings, I will explain. You said you had an appointment at Southampton at three. I mentioned Richborough Chambers, and then you asked if I knew 'Joystick'. Amongst many applications for an interview I had a joint letter signed by you three fellows. I heard Beverley called by name. That accounted for one of you, and left two--Villiers and Claverhouse. One looked like a naval man, the other did not, but he had an accent that hails from north of the Tweed. Simple, eh? and, by the by, since I know your names, there is no reason why I should screen myself under a nom-de-plume or nom-de-guerre, or whatever you like to call it. I'm called Harborough--Hugh Harborough." "Late Lieutenant-Commander, R.N.V.R.?" asked Villiers. "Correct," was the reply. "And Sir Hugh Harborough," continued Jack.