If it goes on like this, some of the bridges will be down; that's what I'm afraid of." Mr.Dunster frowned.

For the first time he showed some signs of uneasiness.
"Perhaps," he muttered, half to himself, "a motor-car would have been better." "Not on your life," his young companion intervened.

"All the roads to the coast here cross no end of small bridges--much weaker affairs than the railway bridges.

I bet there are some of those down already.
Besides, you wouldn't be able to see where you were going, on a night like this." "There appears to be a chance," Mr.Dunster remarked drily, "that you will have to scratch for your competition to-morrow." "Also," the young man observed, "that you will have taken this special train for nothing.

I can't fancy the Harwich boat going out a night like this." Mr.Dunster relapsed into stony but anxious silence.