"Not if I know it," resolutely replied the member of the National Guard. "I'll get there, even if I have to tramp it."
"What's the programme, sir?" enquired Tressidar, who, after having found a derelict cushion for the girls, was surveying the wreckage in the dim glimmer of the expiring lamp.
"We'll try to reach the nearest village and find a conveyance," replied the doctor. "It can't be very far. We must be almost on the edge of the moors, although I find I was mistaken just now. I certainly don't remember this place."
"May as well leave everything ship-shape as far as possible," suggested Eric. "My word, what an escape we've had!"
All hands set to work to retrieve the scattered articles. Cushions, portions of the mechanism, fishing-rods, Mr. Greenwood's rifle, the clock and speedometer and a number of other articles were picked up at varying distances from the wrecked car, some having rolled far down the valley. These were placed for safety in the car.
"By Jove, sir!" exclaimed Tressidar. "How many clocks do you carry? I've already found three."
"Three?" echoed the doctor. "Never."
"I'll prove it," continued the sub., leaning over the side door and groping for the floor of the car. This he failed to find, for the simple reason that it no longer existed. Instead was a gaping cavity through which the retrieved articles rolled out as fast as they were stowed away.
Just then the terrier gave a bark.
"Quiet!" ordered Doris. "Quiet, Mike!"