Diggory and Mugford had been driven with considerable violence into the thickest part of a thorn hedge, and proceeded to extricate themselves therefrom with many groans and lamentations.
"Well," said the mate, as they proceeded to drag the machine out of the ditch, "I should think, Jack, you've celebrated your birthday about enough; now you'd better give over, or we shall all be sent home in a sack." "Me!" cried the captain, with great indignation.

"It was _your_ fault, you dummy! you put the helm over wrong again, you--" "Hullo, you kids!" interrupted a voice behind them, and turning round the three friends saw the burly form of John Acton pushing a bicycle up the hill.

"Hullo!" he continued; "it's young Trevanock.

What's up?
Have you had a spill ?" "Yes; the chain broke, and we ran into the ditch." "Umph! bad business.

Now you'll have to foot it, I suppose." "Yes," answered Jack ruefully; "and we're bound to be back late pushing this old thing all the way.