Dismounting and tethering their somewhat restive horses, the two Australians took the end of the third wire rope to the trunk of a large tree-the only one for miles, as it so happened. Fortunately they knew how to make a rope fast--an accomplishment that few people other than seamen possess.
"Where are we?" asked the baronet.
"In Minto County, ten miles from Kelmscott," was the reply.
"Any petrol to be had hereabouts?"
"Sure," was the unexpected answer. "How much do you want?"
"A hundred gallons--enough to take us to Fremantle," replied Fosterdyke rather dubiously.
"Two hundred if you want," offered the good Samaritan. "I'll run it along in less than an hour."
"Will to-morrow at daybreak do equally as well?" asked Sir Reginald, knowing the difficulty and possible danger of handling quantities of the highly volatile spirit in the dark. "We'll be all right here until morning if the wind doesn't increase."
"It won't," declared the farmer, confidently. "If anything it'll fall light. If you're in a hurry, I'll hitch you on to my motor lorry and tow you into Fremantle."
Fosterdyke thanked him and begged to be excused on the score that he was obliged by the terms of the race to make a flight without outside assistance in the matter of propulsion.