"Well, it seemed all right. Wasn’t a bad road for a bit, and I put on speed to make up for lost time. Then, just as I was going through an avenue of trees, and what with the mist and the shade couldn’t see more than a few yards ahead, the road took a sharp dip, and I throttled down and screwed on the brakes; but the road made a sudden bend, and before I knew where I was, I was chucked in the ditch by the roadside. I was dazed for a bit, and when I come to, there was the lorry in the field. I crawled to it; it was stuck fast, and even it if hadn’t been I couldn’t have driven it in the mashed state I was in. A pretty fix to be in, in a strange country, with no garage handy. I didn’t know what to do. When I’d recovered a bit, I crawled back to see if I could find that parson. It was all his fault, not warning me, and he ought to get me out of the mess. But I couldn’t find him, so all I could do was to crawl to the main road, on the chance of seeing some of our chaps. It was hours before any one came along; just my luck; another time the road would very likely have been crowded. But presently that cyclist came up at forty miles an hour. He would have gone past if I hadn’t bellowed like a bull. He wouldn’t get off his machine to take a look at the lorry, but he said he’d send help if he could. And all I want is to get hold of that parson; I’d know him again in a minute by his size and the wart on his nose. Why, a German couldn’t have served me a dirtier trick; and he said he knew the road.... There’s the lorry; I doubt whether you’ll get it up; and the Wessexes howling for their grub, I expect." The lorry was tilted over to one side, with the near front wheel embedded nearly up to the axle in the soft earth of the field. "Got a jack?" asked Ginger. "You’ll find it under the seat." Ginger fetched it, and with his companions tried to jack the wheel up; but the tool sank into the earth. "Let’s unload and then see," suggested Kenneth. It took them half an hour to unload the car, working so hard that they were all bathed in perspiration. Again they plied the jack, but in vain. "The only chance is to get something solid to put under it," said Ginger. "There’s nothing handy hereabouts. Any houses about here?" he asked the driver. "Hanged if I know. It was too misty to see when I came along. The parson lives somewhere, I suppose." "I’ll run up the hill and take a look round," said Harry. "Take your rifle, man," Kenneth called, as Harry was starting without it. "All right; but we’re miles away from the German front. You might have a look at the engine while I’m gone."