"Mr. Laurance and Mr. Halliday," he said casually, and turning from the workman to whom he had been speaking--"yes, of course. You understand about the propeller, Quinton," he added, again taking up his conversation with the workman, "it must be seen to at once," and quite oblivious of the company he went on giving instructions, until the man went away to do his task, and Mildred touched her uncle's arm. "This is Mr. Laurance and Mr.----" "Of course I know it is Mr. Laurance," said Vincent testily, "do you think I am blind? How do you do, Laurance? Good-by, I am busy." "And this is Mr. Halliday who wants a machine," went on Mildred persuasively. "Indeed. Then Mr. Halliday shan't get one," retorted Vincent, and sauntered into the nearest shed with a scowl on his lean face. He was an acrid-looking man of fifty, with untidy gray hair and an untrimmed beard. "Follow him, and he will talk," said Mildred hastily, "I shall remain here with Freddy, as uncle doesn't like many people to be about him." "He is not easy to get on with," sighed Dan, "I can see that." However, he took the girl's advice and went into the shed after the ungracious inventor, leaving the lovers to return to the cottage parlor, which they did forthwith. Laurance was quite astute enough to lose no time, since the moments spent with Mildred were all golden and not easily obtainable. Dan marched into the shed with a fine air of possession, and again surveyed Vincent, who was examining some specifications near a window. The man was carelessly dressed in a shabby suit of blue serge, and seemed to care little about his personal appearance. Marking once more his shaggy hair and beard, and yellow skin considerably wrinkled, the young man went up to him. As if waking from a dream, Vincent looked up, and Dan met the gaze of two very keen dark eyes, whose expression was anything but amiable. "Who are you, and what do you want?" demanded the owner of the eyes crossly. "My name is Halliday. I want a machine to race between London and York. I have just been introduced to you by your niece." "My niece should have more sense than to have brought you here," cried the inventor fiercely; "you come to spy out my ideas and to steal them." "I assure you I don't," said Dan drily. "I am not a genius as you are." "All the more reason you should pick my brains," snapped Vincent in no way mollified by the compliment as Dan intended he should be. Halliday laughed. "If I did, I could make no use of my pickings, Mr. Vincent, as you may guess. I can handle a machine, but I can't put one together." "Who told you about me?" demanded the man suspiciously. "Laurance." "He's a meddlesome fool." "Well," said Dan cheerfully, "there may be two opinions about that you know." "I don't want him, and I don't want you, and I don't want any one. Why do you come and bother me when I don't want you?"