Chippy uttered a grunt of scorn.
'There's nothing in it 'cept the harness,' he said. 'Can't shift that, eh?'
He took the shafts and ran the cart into the way as if it had been a big wheelbarrow: there was surprising strength in his slight but sinewy figure.
'Come on, gaffer!' cried Chippy, and he trundled the cart rapidly away down the road, leaving Dick on guard perforce beside his comrade's equipment.
Within three-quarters of an hour Chippy was back, travelling at scout's pace.
'You've been jolly quick, Chippy,' shouted Dick.
'Had a bit o' luck,' returned the Raven, wiping his sweat-soaked face; 'met a farmer's cart goin' into Eston, and tied th' old man's cart at the back, so I didn't 'ave to go all the way.'
'What about the motor-car?' asked Dick. 'Had it run through the village?'
'Not it,' replied the other; 'turned sharp to the left at the cross-roads.'
Dick got out the map, and the scouts saw that the driver knew the country; he had taken the most solitary road of the neighbourhood.