Meanwhile, what had happened to Elly Mouton? She had set out to collect her daughter in her Mini Metro but had got a puncture. Now, Elly Mouton was no mechanic. She got in a flap. She merely knew how to drive, not to repair cars. She waved her hooves and bleated and moaned. It wasn’t long before Rory, the local policeman, found her.
Rory was naturally a collie dog used to dealing with sheep and their problems. “Allo, allo,” he barked, “and what ‘ave we got ;ere?” Elly blurted out a pathetic story