The World in My Pocket

‘You go on ahead,’ he said to Kitson. ‘Gypo and me will come after you. I won’t use lights. I’ll take the direction from your rear lights.’

Kitson nodded and joined Ginny, who was already in the Buick. As he started the Buick moving, Ginny leaned out of the window, looking back, watching the truck.

They started the climb again. The Buick, relieved of the truck’s weight, climbed majestically and effortlessly.

‘Are they following all right?’ Kitson asked.

‘Yes,’ Ginny said. ‘Go a little slower. They’re losing you on the bends.’

They kept going for another twenty minutes until they came to the washed-out section of the road.

Kitson flashed on his headlamps and stopped.

‘You stay with her,’ he said. ‘I’m going to take a look.’

He opened up the caravan and explained to Bleck that he was going to examine the road.

They looked at the road in the light of the Buick’s headlamps. It went straight up, almost as steep as the side of a house and there were rocks and loose stones scattered about.

‘For Pete’s sake!’ Bleck exclaimed. ‘Have we to go up there?’

‘That’s it.’ Kitson shook his head. ‘It’s going to be rugged. We’ll have to shift some of those rocks first.’

He started up the road, pausing to manhandle the biggest stones, rolling them to the side of the road. It took the three men a half an hour to clear the biggest of the rocks out of the way. The worst part of the road ran for about five hundred yards, then the surface improved.

‘I guess that’ll do,’ Kitson said, panting from his exertions. ‘If we get this far, we’ll manage the rest.’

The three men started down the road towards the Buick.

‘Take it dead slow,’ Kitson said to Bleck, ‘and keep in bottom gear. You’ll have to use your lights. Whatever you do, keep going. If you stop, you won’t get enough grip to start again.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Bleck said irritably. ‘You don’t have to tell me how to drive. You handle your crate. I’ll handle mine.’

‘Let me get up to the top before you follow,’ Kitson said. ‘I may have to have a second shot at it, and I don’t want you in my way if I have to back down.’

‘Okay. Don’t talk so much,’ Bleck snarled. ‘Get on with it!’

Kitson shrugged and went to the Buick and got in.

With his headlights on, he put the gear lever to ‘Low’ and then, with a steady pressure on the gas pedal he sent the car up the slope.

He had a lot of power to help him, but the caravan, although empty, was still heavy and it acted as a drag. Every now and then the car’s rear wheels spun, throwing stones and loose gravel to right and left.

Ginny was sitting forward, staring ahead, warning Kitson of any big stones before he saw them himself. They were moving slower now, and Kitson, gripping the wheel, was muttering to himself, squeezing down on the gas pedal, feeling the car juddering.

Any second now, he thought, we’ll stop and then we’re sunk.

He swung sharply to the right, easing the direct drag, then to the left, tacking in the narrow space that needed all his skill to keep the Buick from leaving the road.

The speed picked up.

The water in the radiator began to boil and the inside of the car was unbearably hot. The headlights picked out the smoother surface of the road just ahead.

‘You’ve nearly done it!’ Ginny cried excitedly. ‘Only another few yards.’

Kitson had kept a little power in reserve for just this moment. He now pushed the gas pedal to the floor. The rear wheels spun, the back of the car moved to the right, then the tires bit, and the car and the caravan lurched onto the made-up surface of the road and immediately began to gain speed.

Kitson pulled up.

‘We’ve done it!’ he exclaimed, grinning. ‘Phew! I thought it was going to lick us!’

‘Well done, Alex!’ Ginny said. ‘That was a fine piece of driving.’

He grinned at her, set the parking brake and got out of the car.

Bleck was starting his run up. He hadn’t the horsepower that Kitson had had to help him, but neither was he pulling a heavy caravan.

‘He’s taking it too fast,’ Kitson said and began to run down the hill towards the approaching headlights of the truck.

Bleck was rushing the hill, his foot flat on the gas pedal, leaving himself nothing in reserve for an emergency.

The truck bounced and banged over the uneven surface, throwing Gypo, sitting beside Bleck, heavily against the side of the truck.

‘Take it easy,’ Gypo gasped. ‘You’re going too fast!’

‘Shut up!’ Bleck shouted. ‘I’m handling this!’

Gypo saw a big stone appear in the headlights of the truck.

‘Look out!’ he bawled.

Bleck missed seeing the stone and the off-side front wheel of the truck hit it and the truck wrenched to the left. Before Bleck could control the truck, it was sideways on to the hill and the engine had stalled.

Alarmed at the angle the truck was leaning, Gypo yelled, ‘It’s going over!’ and he tried to open the truck door, but the angle was so sharp and the door so solid, he couldn’t open it.

‘Stay still, you fool!’ Bleck shouted. ‘You’ll have us over!’

Kitson came running up.