"It's empty," he called back.
"What's inside?"
Fred shook his head. "You won't believe it."
"What?"
"It's got a steering wheel," he called out hollowly. "And some dials."
"My goodness," Alice said. "Is it a real one?"
"How do I know?" he said, and rejoined her, casting a series of glances uncertainly over his shoulder at the bright red saucer behind him. "What do you suppose we ought to do?"
"Tell somebody," Alice said. "I suppose."
"Who do we tell?"
"I don't know. There must be somebody—"