ing to the rail."

"Hold tight," Julian enjoined. "I'm going to drag you across the road.
It's the best I can do."

They reached the threshold of the sitting room.

"Sorry, old chap," faltered Furley--and fainted.

He came to himself in front of the sitting-room fire, to find his lips
wet with brandy and his rescuer leaning over him. His first action was
to feel his leg.

"That's all right," Julian assured him. "It isn't broken. I've been over
it carefully. If you're quite comfortable, I'll step down to the village
and fetch the medico. It isn't a mile away."

"Don't bother about the doctor for a moment," Furley begged. "Listen to
me. Take your torch--go out and examine that bridge. Come back and tell
me what's wrong with it."

"What the dickens does that matter?" Julian objected. "It's the doctor
we want. The dyke's flooded, and I expect the supports gave way."

"Do as I ask," Furley insisted. "I have a reason."

Julian rose to his feet, walked cautiously to the edge of the dyke,
turned on his light, and looked downwards. One part of the bridge
remained; the other was caught in the weeds, a few yards down, and the
single plank which formed its foundation was sawn through, clean and
straight. He gazed at it for a moment in astonishment. Then he turned
back towards the cottage, to receive another shock. About forty yards up
the lane, drawn in close to a straggling hedge, was a small motor-car,
revealed to him by a careless swing of his torch. He turned sharply
towards it, keeping his torch as much concealed as possible. It was
empty--a small coupe of pearl-grey--a powerful two-seater, with deep,
cushioned seats and luxuriously fitted body. He flashed his torch on to
the maker's name and returned thoughtfully to his friend.

"Miles," he confessed, as he entered the sitting room, "there are some
things I will never make fun of again. Have you a personal enemy here?"

"Not one," replied Furley. "The soldiers, who are all decent fellows,
the old farmer at the back, and your father and mother are the only
people with whom I have the slightest acquaintance in these parts."

"The bridge has been deliberately sawn through," Julian announced
gravely.

Furley nodded. He seemed prepared for the news.

"There is something doing in this section, then," he muttered. "Julian,
will you take my job on?"

"Like a bird," was the prompt response. "Tell me exactly what to do?"

Furley sat up, still nursing his leg.

"Put