They dared not lift their faces as it passed, and it was only when, as Dick had predicted, the walk changed into a trot, that they started from their lurking- place, and gave chase.
"Why," groaned Heathcote, as they came up, "it's got no step!" For once, Dick was gravelled.

The idea that the coach was not like all the other coaches had never once crossed his mind; and he felt beaten.
The two unhappy pursuers, however, kept up the chase, pawing the forbidding coach door, very much as kittens paw the outside of a gold- fish bowl.
Alas! there was nothing to lay hold of; not even a handle or a nail! "Shall we yell ?" gasped Heathcote, nearly at the end of his wind.
"Wait a bit.

Is there anything underneath we could lay hold of ?" They groped, but, as it seemed, fruitlessly.

Dick, however, stooped again, and next moment turned round radiant.
"There's a bit of string," said he.

"Keep it up, old man, and we'll get hold of it." With much diving he succeeded in picking up the end of a casual piece of string that had somehow got its other end fastened to a nut underneath the coach.