Then a low voice spoke out of the darkness—a voice I knew well—and, following it, a hand was laid on my arm. 'What the devil are you doing here, d**k?' it said, and there was something like consternation in the tone.
I told him in a hectic sentence, for I was beginning to feel badly rattled myself.
'You've never been in greater danger in your life,' said the voice. 'Great God, man, what brought you wandering here today of all days?'
You can imagine that I was pretty scared, for Sandy was the last man to put a case too high. And the next second I felt worse, for he clutched my arm and dragged me in a bound to the side of the road. I could see nothing, but I felt that his head was screwed round, and mine followed suit. And there, a dozen yards off, were the acetylene lights of a big motor
