both felt better, at least I think so; for, without rhyme or reason, Winter burst into a fit of laughter, and I followed his example, though I cannot explain now, any more than I could have done then, why I laughed.

   When we had done laughing, Winter turned to me and said—

   "Sutgrove, old fellow, would you mind punching me? I'm not quite sure whether it is the Colonel who is asleep or myself. I feel as if I have just awakened from dreaming of the story those newspapers printed."

   "It's not much of a dream," I remarked. "I little thought that we were to have the good fortune of so early an introduction to the Motor Pirate, however. The Colonel will be quite cross to think that his bottle of port prevented the renewal of an old acquaintance."

   Then Winter laughed again. I think he saw the amusing side of our adventure more clearly than I did, for I said sharply—

   "Hadn't we better be getting on to St. Albans, and giving information to the police?"

   "H—m—m!" he answered meditatively. "I think perhaps we had better not."

   "Not?" I replied in surprise.

   "In the first place it is after dinner," he said.

   "What of that? We dined wisely."

   "One of us knows nothing about it." Winter jerked his thumb in the direction of the slumbering warrior. "We could hardly explain the reason why the Colonel slept so soundly through the adventure. The explanation could hardly please him, would it?"

   I muttered an assent.

   "Besides," continued Winter, "for three of us to admit that we tamely allowed ourselves to be held up by one man, and forced to hand over to him all our valuables, well it—er—it hardly seems heroic, does it? That wouldn't create a very favourable impression upon Miss Maitland either."

   I was compelled to agree with him.

   "I think perhaps we had best keep the matter to ourselves. I have no desire to provide another sensation for the evening papers to-morrow."

   "At any rate I'm not going to sit down quietly under my loss if you are," I 

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