hand clung to the handle of the small bag. The syren operated by the chauffeur more or less cleared a way for the automobile, and at a good deal of risk to life and limb, he managed to get into a side street, and from thence to the hospital.
The nurses who attended Stranleigh listened to his ravings about the Will of the People, which he seemed anxious should prevail, also about a million pounds in Bank of England notes that rested somewhere in a handbag.
One afternoon he came to his senses, and saw Blake standing beside his bed.
"Hello, Blake!" he said feebly, "how goes the election?"
"Oh, entirely to your satisfaction!" but Blake did not think it necessary to tell him that the contest had ended more than a week before.
"There was a little handbag, Blake"
"That's all right," interrupted the secretary. "Its contents are in the Bank of England, and I hold the receipt. Now, you mustn't ask any more questions. How do you feel?"
"I feel," said Stranleigh weakly, as if I had been sand-bagged."
