pped--and Pong
thrust on.

Up, up, up we toiled, through the hanging village of Valcarlos, past a
long string of jingling mules, under stupendous porches of the living
rock, round hair-pin bends, by woods and coppices, over grey
bridges--wet and shining and all stuck with ferns--now looking forward
to the snow-bound ridge, now facing back to find the frontier village
shrunk to a white huddle of dots, the torrent to a winking thread of
silver, and our late road to a slender straggling ribbon, absurdly
foreign, ridiculously remote.

On we stormed, higher and higher, past boulders and poor trees wrung
with the wind, and presently up and into and over the snow, while
slowly, foot by foot, depth dragged height down to nothing.

For the third time it occurred to me that the engine was unwarrantably
hot, and, after a moment's consideration, I took out the clutch and
brought the car to a standstill.

"What is it?" said Daphne.

"She's hot," said I. "Hotter than she should be. At least, I think
so. Of course it's a deuce of a pull." And, with that, I opened the
door.

"You're not going to get out in this snow?"

"Only a second, dear."

Upon observing that the fan-belt was broken, it was natural that I
should regret very much that I had not looked for the trouble when
first I suspected its presence. Had I done so, I should have spared
the engine, I should have been able to correct the disorder without
burning myself to hell, and I should not have been standing, while I
worked, in four inches of snow.

Gloomily I made my report.

"I'm sorry," I concluded, "but I shall have to have Berry. I've got a
new strap in the boot, but I can't shift the luggage alone."

Berry closed his eyes and sank his chin upon his breast.

"Go on, old chap," said Daphne. "I'm very sorry for you, but----"

"I--I don't feel well," said Berry. "Besides, I haven't got my
gum-boots."

"Will you get out?" said his wife.

At last, between us, we got him as far as the running board.

"Come on," I said impatiently.

"Don't rush me," said Berry, staring at the snow as if it were molten
lead. "Don't rush me. How fresh and beautiful it looks, does not it?"
He took a deep breath and let himself down upon his toes. "A-A-ah! If
you can do sixty kilometres with a pound of snow in each shoe, how many
miles is that to the gallon?"

The belt was at the very back of beyond, but I found it at last. As we
replaced the luggage--

"And wh