"Come on, Ford," he said.

"We'll find some place where uncle can't hear us." Two days later a touring car carrying three young men, in the twenty-one miles between Wells and Cromer, broke down eleven times.

Each time this misfortune befell them one young man scattered tools in the road and on his knees hammered ostentatiously at the tin hood; and the other two occupants of the car sauntered to the beach.

There they chucked pebbles at the waves and then slowly retraced their steps.

Each time the route by which they returned was different from the one by which they had set forth.