Alas, poor Williams—he brought the car skilfully and safely down the difficult hill only to have it stop, with a reproachful snort, in the very heart of the little village.
"What's the matter?" asked the girls in one breath as Williams, with an explosive exclamation, jumped from his seat.
There was a moment of investigation, before the man replied.
"No gas!".
"Is that all?"
"All! I'll say that's enough—here. Don't look as though anyone'd know what gas is in these parts. You sit in the car while I ask someone, Miss Forsyth."
"You wanted something to happen, Beryl," laughed Robin, as Williams walked away.
"Pooh! This isn't much of an adventure. And I'm awfully hungry."
Poor Williams returned with the word that he'd have to walk on to the next town—unless he was lucky enough to meet someone who'd help him out. He advised the girls waiting in the store.
"There isn't even a telephone in this dump," he grumbled resentfully, quite forgetting that he had only his own carelessness to blame for the whole thing.