"Hard luck," was all he said, as his punt slipped quickly by.
I was therefore considerably startled when a man in the car next ours
remarked, in an indignant tone:
"You had no right to say that. You know it is not true!"
"Why," I replied, "so did he."
"Not at all, or he would not have asked."
"Well, I am sorry; I supposed he was poking fun at me."
But this only made matters worse. For he now shouted:
"You had no right to assume that. The lad was evidently a gentleman
and would not have been guilty of such an unsportsmanlike thing."
By this time I felt as if I had poisoned the favorite for the Derby,
and in desperation said:
"Well, after all, no great harm was done."
"That is more than you know," replied this uncompromising individual;
"he may have had something on it!"
Now I felt as if I had picked the lad's pocket, and did what any
pickpocket would do, escaped as soon as possible!
We drove to Maidenhead for tea and had the good luck to find there
the Siegels. I don't think you know them. He is one of the
so-called "Pittsburgh crowd"--inventor of a patent car-seat or
something of the sort--and has made a mint of money. I have been
told that in Pittsburgh he is called "Chilled Steel"! Well, he is
anything but that when one meets him away from business. He
overflows with kindness and fun.
After cordial greetings I told him of my experience on the
towing-path, and he was greatly amused.
"But," he said, with mock solemnity, "you ought to have known better
than to monkey with sport in England. It is their religion. It was
like crying 'To Hell with the Pope' on St. Patrick's Day."