"Was that your collar-stud at last, Tiny, old man?" enquired The Freak anxiously.
"Back tyre," replied Mr. Carmyle shortly, disencumbering himself of his rug.
They stepped out upon the muddy road and examined the off-hind wheel. The tyre was flat, but apparently whole.
"It is the valve," announced Carmyle, after unscrewing the dust-cap. "Blown himself clean out of bed. That means a fresh inner tube. And I lent the Stepney wheel to a broken-down car coming along this morning!"
"Bad luck!" said Dicky speciously, glancing up at the pine wood. "Can Tilly and I help?"
"No, better run away and play."
Dicky and Tilly, without further insincerities, obeyed at once.
"I fear you will besmirch yourself, comrade," said Dicky over his shoulder, as they departed.
"Bet you half-a-crown I don't even dirty my gloves," replied Carmyle.
"No: you'll take them off," replied the astute Richard.