"That's enough!" cried Tinker angrily. "Pstt! Pstt! At him, Blazer!
At him!"
For a few seconds Courtnay tried fighting, but his upbringing in France
had not fitted him to cope with a heavy bull-terrier. When the train
ran into the station at Nice, he was out on the footboard, on the
further side, yelling lustily.
"Come on quick, before there's a fuss!" cried Tinker, catching up
Claire's handbag, and opening the door. They jumped down, Tinker
whistled Blazer, and the three of them bustled along the platform.
"I've no ticket!" gasped Claire, who every moment expected Courtnay to
be upon them.
"I thought of that! I've got one for you!" said Tinker; and before
Courtnay had quite realised that the train had stopped, they were out
of the station.
Tinker hurried his charge along the line of fiacres, and stopped at a
victoria and pair.
"Hola, cocher!" he said. "From the Couronne d'Or? Wired for to drive
a lady and a boy to Monte Carlo?"
"Oui, monsieur!" cried the driver, gaily cracking his whip.
They scrambled in; and the horses stepped out. Tinker knelt on the
seat, looking back over the hood. They were almost out of sight of the
station when he fancied that he saw a hatless figure run out of it into
the road.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142