Two miles they went before speech came to the relief of their wounded feelings.
“It’s transportation,” said Heathcote.
“Cat-o’-nine-tails too,” said Dick.
“Jolly good job,” said Heathcote.
And they went on another mile.
Then it occurred to them this was not the road along which they had driven in the morning; and once more the villainy of Tom White broke upon them in all its blackness.
“He’s sent us upon the wrong road!” said Heathcote, beginning at last to feel that Nemesis was a little overdoing it.
Dick gulped down something, and walked on in silence.
“Where are you going? What’s the use of going on?”
“May as well,” said Dick, striding on. “It’s bound to lead somewhere.”