At this moment a piece of indiarubber rebounded from Mr. Lavender’s forehead, and he recoiled into the body of the car.

“Are you right, sir?” said Joe, looking in; and without waiting for reply he started the engine.  The car moved out amid a volley of stones, balls, cheers, and other missiles from the fifteen boys who pursued it with frenzy.  Swaying slightly from side to side, with billowing bag, it gathered speed, and, turning a corner, took road for the country.  Mr. Lavender, somewhat dazed, for the indiarubber had been hard, sat gazing through the little back window at the great city he was leaving.  His lips moved, expressing unconsciously the sentiments of innumerable Lord Mayors:  “Greatest City in the world, Queen of Commerce, whose full heart I can still hear beating behind me, in mingled pride and regret I leave you.  With the most sacred gratitude I lay down my office.  I go to other work, whose——­Joe!”

“Sir?”

“Do you see that?”

“I see your ’ead, that’s all, sir.”

“We seem to be followed by a little column of dust, which keeps ever at the same distance in the middle of the road.  Do you think it can be an augury.”

“No; I should think it’s a dog.”

“In that case, hold hard!” said Mr. Lavender, who had a weakness for dog’s.  Joe slackened the car’s pace, and leaned his head round the corner.  The column of dust approached rapidly.

“It is a dog,” said Mr. Lavender, “it’s Blink.”

The female sheep-dog, almost flat with the ground from speed, emerged from the dust, wild with hair and anxiety, white on the cheeks and chest and top of the head, and grey in the body and the very little tail, and passed them like a streak of lightning.

“Get on!” cried Mr. Lavender, excited; “follow her she’s trying to catch us up!”

Joe urged on the car, which responded gallantly, swaying from side to side, while the gas-bag bellied and shook; but the faster it went the faster the sheep-dog flew in front of it.

“This is dreadful!” said Mr. Lavender in anguish, leaning far out.  “Blink!  Blink!”

His cries were drowned in the roar of the car.

“Damn the brute!” muttered Joe at this rate she’ll be over the edge in ‘alf a mo’.  Wherever does she think we are?”

“Blink!  Blink!” wailed Mr. Lavender.  “Get on, Joe, get on!  She’s gaining on us!”

“Well I never see anything like this,” said Joe, “chasin’ wot’s chasing you!  Hi!  Hi!”

Urged on by their shouts and the noise of the pursuing car, the poor dog redoubled her efforts to rejoin her master, and Mr. Lavender, Joe, and the car, which had begun to emit the most lamentable creaks and odours, redoubled theirs.

“I shall bust her up,” said Joe.

“I care not!” cried Mr. Lavender.  “I must recover the dog.”

They flashed through the outskirts of the Garden City.  “Stop her, stop her!” called Mr. Lavender to such of the astonished inhabitants as they had already left behind.  “This is a nightmare, Joe!”