"Confound it!" he roared, relaxing his grasp and allowing one shaft to fall with a clatter upon the cobbles. "The brute's barked my knuckles." Then, reasoning that the damage afforded a sufficient excuse to "knock off" his professional labours he held his peace on the nature of his injuries. "Warranted quiet in harness," quoted Billy as his parent cautiously retrieved the shaft. "My word, pater, there's not much room between the dock-gates. Think she'll take it?" "Ought to," replied Barcroft Senior dubiously. "Now, have another shot. I wish the brute had a reverse gear." By dint of mingled coaxing and physical force Butterfly was backed between the shafts. Then both men regarded the result of their triumph with chastened looks. "Strikes me we've missed this sling arrangement on the starboard side," remarked Billy. "That leather thing ought to be round the shaft. She'll have to forge ahead a bit." "Right-o!" assented his parent. "Gee-up. Oh, dash it all! That's my toe this time." For Butterfly, in "forging ahead" had brought her hind hoof heavily upon Peter's foot, which happened to be encased in a carpet slipper. At length the evolutions arrived at a state that found the donkey in the shafts. Father and son stood back to admire their handiwork and to puzzle out the way to adjust the seemingly chaotic tangle of harness. "Why not ask Entwistle?" suggested the flight-sub. "He's a vet. He ought to know how this gear is rove." Mr. Barcroft shook his head. He did not like to admit defeat. "Can't ask him to hobble out here with that sprained ankle of his," he said. "Unfortunately I'm not used to the job." "So I should imagine, pater," added Billy pointedly. "Well, we've got to get on with the business. I'll make sure that everything's lashed up securely. That's the main point. If it isn't right it can't be helped." The task of harnessing completed Butterfly was led out of the stable, an operation that nearly resulted in Peter being pinned against the door-post by one of the wheels. "She's perfectly docile now she's in the trap," he decided as the donkey walked demurely round to the front of the house. "That's right, Entwistle. Another hour will see you safely home. Good-bye, don't forget to look me up at any time. Up you get, Billy." "Thanks, I'm not having any at present," decided the flight-sub. "I'll lead her down the narrow lane until we get to the high-road. Now, then, my hearty; easy ahead once more." Downhill the donkey walked sedately; Billy's confidence showed signs of returning as he led the sure-footed animal along the rough-surfaced track. Just as it joined the main road there was a short, steep rise. "Jump in," exclaimed Entwistle; "she'll take it all right." "I'll give her a chance," demurred the flight-sub. "My weight will make a difference. Now, then, old lady; show us what you can do."