ey marched along with
shirt-sleeves rolled nearly to their shoulders, their shoes and
stockings thickly powdered with the white dust which lay deep under
foot.

Suddenly Chippy pulled up. 'I'll 'ave that haversack o' yourn,' he
remarked.

'You won't, old boy,' replied Dick. 'Every man shoulders his own pack
on a day like this.'

'I'll have that haversack,' went on Chippy calmly. 'Bit too bad for a
scout wi' a damaged foot to pull a load while another strolls along as
easy as can be. So pass it over.'

'I won't,' said Dick. 'It's no load in particular.'

'Then why mek' a row about handin' it over?' queried the Raven.

Dick was about to reply when he paused, looked ahead, and said: 'By
Jingo, Chippy, here comes a choker. The haversacks will come handy to
put our heads into.'

The Raven turned and saw a huge pillar of dust whirling towards them.
It rose high above the hedges beyond a bend near at hand, and came on
at great speed. The scouts knew that a motor-car was at the fore-foot
of the pillar, and they stepped back into the shallow ditch which
bordered the way.

In another moment a big, heavy car, flying at terrific speed, came
shooting round the bend, and as it flew it gathered the deep white
dust, and hurled it thirty feet into the air; leaving the road in the
wake of the car one utterly blinding, choking mass of eddying dust.
The scouts threw themselves into the bank and covered their faces with
their hats: it was the only way of drawing some sort of breath, and
even then their throats were choked with dust till they coughed.

'Nice thing, a motor-car running forty miles an hour over two inches of
dust,' remarked Dick in ironical tones.

'It 'ud serve 'em right to bust their tyres on a broken bottle end,'
murmured Chippy. 'It ain't safe to scoot along like that on these 'ere
narrow roads.'

'It's to be hoped they eased up before passing the old man and his
donkey-cart,' said Dick. 'The wind of their passing would be enough
almost to upset him.'

'That's wot they've done,' cried Chippy suddenly. 'Look! look! his
cart's in the ditch.'

Dick looked, and saw through the thinning cloud that the poor old man
was in distress. His cart was turned over, and the donkey was
struggling on its side. The scouts ran back at full speed to help him.

'What's wrong?' cried Dick. 'Did the car hit you?'

''Twor comin' a main sight too fast,' cried the old man, 'an' just as
it passed, the noise o' it me