'You've been jolly quick, Chippy,' shouted Dick. 'Had a bit o' luck,' returned the Raven, wiping his sweat-soaked face; 'met a farmer's cart goin' into Eston, and tied th' old man's cart at the back, so I didn't 'ave to go all the way.' 'What about the motor-car?' asked Dick. 'Had it run through the village?' 'Not it,' replied the other; 'turned sharp to the left at the cross-roads.' Dick got out the map, and the scouts saw that the driver knew the country; he had taken the most solitary road of the neighbourhood. 'A set of sneaks,' said Dick. 'Bad uns,' agreed his chum. 'I say, Chippy, it was no end good of you to cut off like that with the cart, but I would rather have lent a hand,' cried Dick. 'Let's 'ave a look at that 'ere foot,' was the Raven's only reply. The foot was looked at, anointed with vaseline, bound up afresh, and then the march was resumed. Dick now had a very bad quarter of an hour, for his foot had stiffened rather while Chippy was away. But he set himself to tramp it out, and when they passed a station beside the road, and heard an engine whistle, and saw from a bridge the rails running away towards Bardon, he only limped on faster, and put aside the temptation of a lift in by train. After a while his foot became more easy, and he was able to set it down without giving any decided indication that there was something amiss. For this he was very glad before long, when the two scouts met friends who would soon have spotted a lame walker, and have cut his march short. CHAPTER LI THE WELCOME HOME It was about half-past four when they gained a point where the country began to wear a familiar look. 'Shotford Corner!' cried Chippy. 'We'll see Bardon from the cob.' The cob, as Chippy called it, was a small knoll on which stood a finger post, with many arms to guide wayfarers along the roads which met at Shotford Corner. The boys gained the knoll by the smallest of the side-roads which ran in at that point. They paused beneath the finger-post, and looked ahead. There was their old familiar heath spreading away to the distant spires of Bardon, and from this point on they knew every step of the way. 'Six miles to Bardon' was on the arm above their heads. 'We'll be home in less than a couple of hours now,' said Dick. 'We'll put this journey to our credit easily enough, Chippy.' Suddenly behind them a wild honk-honk--h-o-n-k of a motor-horn broke out. The boys looked along the road, and saw a car coming towards them at full speed with two figures in it. The driver was performing a fantasia on his horn; the passenger was waving his cap. 'Why,' cried Dick, 'it's my father out in his car with Uncle Jim.' 'Well, here you are,' shouted Mr. Elliott, as the car sped up to them. 'We've been scouring these roads all the afternoon in search of you. How have you got on?' 'Oh, splendid, father--splendid,' cried Dick. 'We should like to start again on Monday, shouldn't we, Chippy?'