Told directly and entertainingly in much better English than most detective stories, even those with literary pretensions. As full of "go" as the wonderful racing motor. The adventures are many and exciting.
ention of reaching Salisbury about five or six yesterday evening. They lunched at Ilminster, and afterwards had traversed another twenty-five miles of their journey when one of their tyres unfortunately punctured. This was shortly after they had passed through Wincanton. When the tyre was mended, something went wrong with the electric ignition, and altogether the repairs proved such a tedious job that they could not make a fresh start until close upon lighting-up time.
"The delay had not troubled them, for the weather was beautifully fine. As, however, they were very hungry, they determined to stop at Shaftesbury for dinner before finishing the day's run they had mapped out. There is a particularly long hill into Shaftesbury, and they did not reach that town until 8.30. At the hotel they met another party of motorists, and, agreeing to dine together, it was not until after ten that they found themselves once more on their way, with twenty miles of a hilly road to cover. The lateness of the hour did not
Don't waste your time. The story is completely lacking in originality and plausibility. Even allowing for how long ago it was written, the ignorance of the laws of physics is unforgivable. And the narrator/hero is so dense that I wanted to slap him. Apart from that, it is mostly harmless.