my car on completion of annual overhaul, from Coventry via London, to Southampton Docks to await my arrival; and very pretty she looked, under the steamer's side among the railway lines, at six in the morning. Next to her new paint and varnish I was most impressed by her four brand-new tyres.
'But I didn't order new tyres,' I said as we moved away. 'These are Irresilients, too.'
'Treble-ribbed,' said Leggatt. 'Diamond-stud sheathing.'
'Then there has been a mistake.'
'Oh no, sir; they're gratis.'
The number of motor manufacturers who give away complete sets of treble-ribbed Irresilient tyres is so limited that I believe I asked Leggatt for an explanation.
'I don't know that I could very well explain, sir,' was the answer. 'It 'ud come better from Mr. Pyecroft. He's on leaf at Portsmouth—staying with his uncle. His uncle 'ad the body all night. I'd defy you to find a scratch on her even with a microscope.'
'Then we will go home by the Portsmouth road,' I said.
And we went at those speeds which are allowed before the working-day begins or the police are thawed out. We were blocked near Portsmouth by a battalion of Regulars on the move.
'Whitsuntide manœuvres just ending,' said Leggatt. 'They've had a fortnight in the Downs.'
He said no more until we were in a narrow
