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"If I've caught on to Pépe's topography," he said, "the road to the right there runs on an easy downward grade for two miles, then dips sharply for another. At the lowest point they call it Gallowstree Dip there's another road, to the left, which runs straight to Harthborough Junction the place we want.
"You stand here and keep a look-out towards Harthborough." "All right," she answered, understanding very well what he had to do. She turned away, and then, with an effort, her face still averted, "Can't I help you, Dick?" she asked. "Yes by sitting on that stone and not turning round till I let you." And he went back to the car, taking the "Robbie Burns" with him.
You can see he was in no hurry to give information concerning what had happened to his friend." The station-master turned to the guard. "Did you see anything?" he asked. "No. But I heard a door bang. I looked out, but I heard nothing. The gentleman's quite right, though, about the two chaps scrambling in as we pulled out of Harthborough."
The Roman causeway ran into the macadam high road from Harthborough to Timsdale-Horton almost on the level, with still a slight fall towards Harthborough, the smoke of whose chimneys was already visible. Half a mile ahead of them was a knot of men, gathered about what might have been a wheelbarrow. A quarter of a mile further, "Three men," said Dick. "Motor-cycle and side-car," said Amaryllis.
He put two half-crowns on the table. "An' Ah'll never take change, my dear," he added, "so be 'tis ready in three." In two and a half they were drinking it, Bunce-like, from the saucers; and Amaryllis once more in danger of the giggles. "Ma lass and self, miss," said Bunce, between gulps, "be footin' it to Harthborough Junction. Bain't there a train, five summat wi' another five in it?"
"Five fifteen," said the girl. "Lunnon way." "That'll be it. We're takin' 't easy-like o'er moor. Now, Ah do call to mind there be a track to left, some way down t' ro'd, as'll take 'ee gentle and pleasant 'tween two gradely hummocks down into Harthborough. But how far out o' Ecclesthorpe that track takes off the pike, I can't bring to mind.
Half-way between this and Harthborough we heard a row going on the lady and I. It got worse and worse, and I looked out of the window just in time to see one of the pair fall out backwards." Here Dick looked at his watch. "Twelve minutes ago, it was. I took the time then. He hit the grass bank and rolled. Shouldn't wonder if he's all right. Probably alive, anyhow."
I am Major Richard Bellamy of the R.A.F. Never mind my clothes. Take it I've been celebrating. At Harthborough I got into the next compartment with a lady, and a man I have befriended. I am looking after him. He'll be all right to-morrow. Just as we left the train had actually started two fellows in overalls jumped into this compartment.
But a little later, Amaryllis, turning in her seat, thought she saw a small cloud of dust start up from the road; and Dick, on the assumption of a pursuit almost as swift as his flight, found himself involved in the solution of complex chances. The road he followed, as he had been able to determine from the higher ground, led directly to the railway station in the centre of Harthborough.
There we might run into Melchard plus his picket. The railway's at Harthborough, so Harthborough's got it." "And here," said the girl, "is the Drovers' Track." Before they knew it, they had stepped into a way wider and more clearly marked than the path which had brought them across the base of the triangle of which the apex was the white stone by the hawthorns they had never seen.
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