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There was a sizzling noise, and then the light in the cab came on.

'There,' said Dorcas. 'Now we can see what we're at. Come on, lads! Let's have a bit of effort!' When he 'turned around and saw Masklin he made as if to hide his hands behind his back, and then thought better of it. Both of them were thrust into what Masklin could now see were the fingers cut out of rubber gloves.

'Ah,' said Dorcas, 'didn't know you were there. Bit of a trade secret, see? Electricity can't abide rubber. It stops the stuff from biting you.' He ducked as a team of nomes swung a long wooden beam across the cab and started to fasten it to the gear lever.

'How long's it going to take?' shouted Masklin, as another team ran past dragging a ball of string. There was quite a din in the cab now, and threads and bits of wood were moving in every direction in what he hoped was an organized way.

'Could be an hour, maybe,' said Dorcas, and added, not unkindly, 'We'd get on quicker without people in the way.' Masklin nodded, and explored the rear of the cab. The lorry was old, and he found another hole for a bundle of wires which, at a squeeze, would take a nome as well. He crawled out into the open air and then found another gap which let him into the rear of the lorry.

The first nomes aboard had dragged up one end of a thin piece of wood, which was acting as a gangplank. The rest were scrambling up it now.

Masklin had put Granny Morkie in charge of this. The old woman had a natural talent for making frightened people do things.

'Steep?' she was shouting at a fat nome, who had got halfway up and was clinging there in fright.

'Call this steep? It ain't steep, it's a stroll! Want me to come down there and help you?' The mere threat budged him from his perch and he nearly ran the rest of the way, ducking gratefully into the shadows of the cargo.

'Everyone had better try to find somewhere soft to lie down,' said Masklin. 'It could be a rough journey. And you must send all the strongest nomes up towards the cab. We're going to need everyone we can get, believe me.' She nodded, and then shouted at a family that was blocking the gangway.

Masklin looked down at the endless stream of people climbing into the lorry, many of them' staggering under the weight of possessions.

Funny, but now he felt he'd done everything he could. Everything was ticking over like a, like a, like something that went tick. Either all the plans would work, or they wouldn't. Either the nomes could act together, or they couldn't.

He recalled the picture of Gulliver. It probably wasn't real, Gurder had said. Books often had things in them that weren't really real. But it would be nice to think that nomes could agree on something long enough to be like the little people in the book...

'Well, it's all going well, then,' he said vaguely.

Well enough.' Granny nodded.

'It would be a good idea if we found out exactly what was in all these boxes and things,' Masklin ventured, 'because we might have to get out quickly when we stop and-' 'I tole Torrit to see to it,' said Granny. 'Don't you worry about it.' 'Oh,' said Masklin weakly 'Good' He hadn't left himself anything to do.

He went back to the cab out of sheer well, not boredom, because his heart was pounding like a drum - but out of restlessness.

Dorcas's nomes had already built a wooden platform above the steering wheel and right in front of the big window. Dorcas himself was back down on the floor of the cab, drilling the driving teams.

'Right!' he shouted. 'Give me... First Gear!' 'Pedal Down ... two, three ...' chorused the team on the clutch pedal.

'Pedal Up... two, three.. .' shouted the accel­erator team.

'Lever Up... two, three...' echoed the nomes by the gear lever.

'Pedal Up ... two, three, four!' the leader of the clutch team threw Dorcas a salute. 'Gear all changed, sir!' he shouted.

'That was terrible. Really terrible,' said Dorcas. What's happened to the accelerator team, eh? Get that pedal down!' 'Sorry, Dorcas.' Masklin tapped Dorcas on the shoulder. 'Keep doing it!' Dorcas commanded. 'I want you dead smooth all the way up to fourth. Yes? What? Oh, it's you.' 'Yes, it's me. Everyone's nearly on,' said Mask­lin. 'When will you be ready?' 'This lot won't be ready ever.' 'Oh.' 'So we might as well start whenever you like and pick it up as we go along. We can't even try steering until it's moving, of course.' 'We're going to send alot more people to help you,' said Masklin.

'Oh, good,' said Dorcas. 'Just what I need, lots more people who don't know their right from their left.' 'How are you going to know which way to steer?' 'Semaphore,' said Dorcas firmly. 'Semaphore?' 'Signalling with flags. You just tell my lad up on the platform what you want done, and I'll watch the signals. If we'd had one more week I reckon I could have rigged up some sort of telephone.' 'Flags,' said Masklin. Will that work?' 'It'd better, hadn't it. We can give it a try later on.' And now it was later on. The last nome scouts had climbed aboard. In the back of the lorry most of the people made themselves as comfortable as possible and lay, wide awake, in the darkness.

Masklin was up on the platform with Angalo, Gurder and the Thing. Gurder knew even less about lorries than Masklin, but it was felt best to have him there, just in case. After all, they were stealing Arnold Bros (est. 1905)'s lorry. Someone might have to do some explaining. But he'd drawn the line about having Bobo in the cab. The rat was back with everyone else.

Grimma was there, too. Gurder asked her what she was doing there. She asked him what he was doing there. They both looked at Masklin.

'She can help me with the reading,' he said, secretly relieved. He wasn't, despite lots of effort, all that good at it. There seemed to be a knack he couldn't get the hang of. Grimma, on the other hand, seemed to do it now without thinking. If her brain was exploding, it was doing it in unnoticeable ways.

She nodded smugly and propped The High Way Code open in front of him.

'There's things you've got to do,' he said uncer­tainly. 'Before you start, you've got to look in a mur-' '-mirror-' said Grimma.

'-.mirror. That's what it says here. Mirror,' said Masklin, firmly.

He looked enquiringly at Angalo, who shrugged. 'I don't know anything about that,' he said. 'My driver used to look at it, but I don't know why.' 'Do you have to look for anything special? I mean, perhaps you have to make a face in it or something,' said Masklin.

Whatever it is, we'd better do things properly,' said Gurder firmly. He pointed. 'There's a mirror up there, near the ceiling.' 'Daft place to put it,' said Masklin. He managed to hook it with a grapnel and, after some effort, pulled himself up to it.

'Can you see anything?' Gurder called out.

'Just me.' Well, come on back down. You've done it, that's the main thing.' Masklin slid back down to the decking, which wobbled under him.

Grimma peered at the Code.

'Then you've got to signal your intentions,' she' said. 'That's clear, anyway. Signaller?' One of Dorcas's assistants stepped forward a bit uncertainly, holding his two white flags carefully downwards.

'Yes, sir ma'am?' he said.

'Tell Dorcas-' Grimma looked at the others.

'Tell him we're ready to start.' 'Excuse me,' said Gurder. 'If it's anyone's job to tell them when we're ready to start, it's my job to tell them we're ready to start. I want it to be quite clear that I'm the person who tells people to start.' He looked sheepishly at Grimma. 'Er. We're ready to start,' he said.

'Right you are, ma'am.' The signaller waved his arms briefly. From far below the engineer's voice boomed back: 'Ready!' 'Well, then,' said Masklin. 'This 'is it, then.' 'Yes,' said Gurder, glaring at Grimma. 'Is there anything we've forgotten?' 'Lots of things, probably,' said Masklin.