"Well, I had to lay him out, which wasn’t very difficult, and for safety’s sake I tied him up in his own straps. Then I had a look at my machine. The front wheel was hopelessly buckled. What about the German’s, I thought. I found that the engine was mere scrap iron; it had got the full force of the collision. But the back wheel wasn’t hurt a bit. By good luck it was exactly the same size as mine, and as the tool bag was there all complete, I set about exchanging the wheels--and also more or less pleasant remarks with the German, who showed a wonderful command of English bargee idiom when he recovered his senses. I had pulled my old Rover to pieces so often at home that I had no trouble, though it took me a long time. When I had finished, I wondered whether I could bring in the German as a prisoner, but I couldn’t very well fix him on the carrier without help. And besides, the front forks had been so strained and twisted that I was afraid the whole concern might come to grief. So I went over and bade him a polite good-bye, eased his lashings so that he could wriggle free with a little exertion, and then set off at full speed. By the way, I had taken the liberty of examining his pockets, left him a photograph and a few trifles, and took a letter and a despatch which I handed to the general. On the whole I think we’ve done a good day’s work." "I rather think we have. Pity you didn’t leave the German tied up: we might have got him to-morrow on our way back." "No thank you! Once running the gauntlet of German shells is enough for me. We’ll go back the long way. And as we shall have only the one machine between us I’ll take it to the repairing shop and have it looked over. There’s not much wrong with it, and we’ll take turn and turn about on the carrier." They set off in a fine spring dawn, taking their midday meal with them. It was slow going on this outer circle. The road, lying well behind the British lines, was encumbered with military traffic. The pave was for long stretches occupied by motor omnibuses and lorries, carrying men, provisions, and ammunition. Here was a lorry loaded with bacon, there one packed with loaves of bread from the baking ovens, there another heaped with parcels sent out from home, another with new uniforms, boots and equipment. Time after time the cyclists had to hop off, leave the pave for the muddy unpaved border of the road, and stand ankle deep in mud until the heavy vehicles had passed, exchanging pleasantries with the cheerful drivers. "I say, this is a nuisance," said Harry, at one of these stoppages. "If I’m not mistaken, the map showed a cross-road about halfway, leading into the road we travelled yesterday. It comes out by that hamlet we passed. I vote we take that and chance it. There’s no firing at present, and the road is less exposed at that end. Of course there’s no hurry, but this constant hopping off and on is too monotonous for anything."