responded irritably. "That's another matter altogether," replied Winter, as he set our car in motion once more. "I did not say that I was going to grin and bear it either." "What do you propose?" I cried eagerly. "That is a question we will discuss over a whisky and soda, when we have deposited the Colonel safely at home;" and he refused to say anything further. Our car was once more put at full speed, and in five minutes we reached the cross-roads on the outskirts of St. Albans, where the road to Watford makes a junction with that on which we had come from town. Here Winter pulled up, and, much to my surprise, dismounted and made a careful examination of the road by the light of our lamps. "I just want to see in which direction the fellow went," he answered, in reply to my inquiry as to the meaning of his action. He was still engaged on the task when we heard in the distance the regular beat of a petrol motor approaching us on the Watford road. "If it's another pirate, he won't get much plunder," I remarked. "That's no pirate," replied Winter, as a couple of lights came into view. "Cannot you recognize the rattle of Mannering's old car? I should know it anywhere. He will be able to tell us if any one has passed him on the road." As soon as the new-comer came within range of his voice, Winter hailed him. "That you, Mannering?" "Hullo, Winter! Got a puncture? Can I be of any assistance?" Was it indeed Mannering's voice, or were my ears deceiving me? The intonation was remarkably like that of the stranger, who so short a time previously had bade us stand and deliver, that I sprang to my feet with an exclamation of astonishment. My eyes at once convinced me that my ears had played me false. There was no mistaking Mannering's lumbering old car for the graceful shape of the Motor Pirate's vehicle. I resumed my seat, taking my nerves seriously to task for generating the suspicion, if suspicion it could be called, which had flashed across my mind. If anything further had been needed to dispel it, the reply vouchsafed to