The children looked out through the back window in the automobile and watched Uncle Toby. He was soon out of sight below the top of the hill, and all that Ted and the others could see was the cloud of swirling flakes of white.
"I—I hope he finds Skyrocket," faltered Janet.
"I hope so, too," added Ted.
"He sure is a good dog!" declared Tom.
Then all the Curlytops could do was to wait for Uncle Toby to come back.
Meanwhile the old sailor was trudging back through the storm, going down the hill up which he had lately driven the big car.
"It's easy now," thought Uncle Toby to himself, "but it won't be so easy going back. I'll have the wind in my face and I'll have to go uphill. But never mind! We'll have jolly good times—the children and I—when we get to my cabin out at the Lake."
As he walked along through the storm Uncle Toby looked on each side of the road for a sight of Skyrocket. But he did not see the dog. Nor was there any answering bark in reply to the shrill whistles uttered by Uncle Toby.
"Here, Sky! Here, Skyrocket!" the old sailor would call every now and then, but no dog appeared.
"He must have jumped out away back where I stalled the car," thought Uncle Toby. "Poor dog! He'll freeze if he has to stay out all night. And I don't know what I'll do with those children if I don't find their pet for them. Skyrocket, where are you?"