The millionaire looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and said:
"You don't beat about the bush when you want anything."

"Why should I?" said the Duke simply. "Shout, my good chap--shout!"

The millionaire raised his voice in a terrific bellow of "Jean!
Jean! Firmin! Firmin!"

There was no answer.




CHAPTER VII

THE THEFT OF THE MOTOR-CABS


The night was very black; the rain pattered in their faces.

Again the millionaire bellowed: "Jean! Firmin! Firmin! Jean!"

No answer came out of the darkness, though his bellow echoed and re-
echoed among the out-buildings and stables away on the left.

He turned and looked at the Duke and said uneasily, "What on earth
can they be doing?"

"I can't conceive," said the Duke. "I suppose we must go and hunt