"The idea all along," I explained to Miss Cardew.
"I rather suspected it," she said. Apparently she has a suspicious mind.
After the little descent at the start, we went uphill slowly for a couple of miles, and then more rapidly over the level. We had driven over the same road in a sleigh, coming from the station, and had been bitterly cold and extremely bored. Why our present position should be so much more enjoyable I didn't quite see.
"It's the expectation of an accident," said Archie. "At any moment somebody may fall off. Good."
"My dear old chap," said Simpson, turning round to take part in the conversation, "why anybody should fall off——"
We went suddenly round a corner, and quietly and without any fuss whatever Simpson left his luge and rolled on to the track. Luckily any possibility of a further accident was at once avoided. There was no panic at all. Archie kicked the body temporarily out of the way; after which Dahlia leant over and pushed it thoughtfully to the side of the road. Myra warded it off with a leg as she neared it; with both hands I helped it into the deep snow from which it had shown a tendency to emerge; Miss Cardew put a foot out at it for safety; and Thomas patted it gently on the head as the end of the "tail" went past....
As soon as we had recovered our powers of speech—all except Miss Cardew, who was in hysterics—we called upon Gaspard to stop. He indicated with the back of his neck that it would be dangerous to stop just then; and it was not until we were at the bottom of the hill, nearly a mile from the place where Simpson left us, that the procession halted, and gave itself up again to laughter.
"I hope he is not hurt," said Dahlia, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"He wouldn't spoil a good joke like that by getting hurt," said Myra confidently. "He's much too much of a sportsman."
"Why did he do it?" said Thomas.