“Daddy, it’s getting late, isn’t it?” asked Nan, when they had gone several miles, with never a sign of the old woman. They had not even passed a house at which they might inquire.
“My gracious, it is late—nearly six o’clock!” exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey, looking at his watch. “We’ve been traveling the best part of the day. Whew! I don’t know whether we’d better go on or not. It doesn’t look very promising ahead,” he added, as he slowed down the car. “We’re getting deeper into the woods all the while.”
“Do you think the old woman came along here?” asked Bert.
“It’s hard to say, Son,” answered his father. “I’ll keep on a bit farther, and then, if we don’t catch up to her, I’ll turn back.”
They went on for another mile, and then, finding a good place to turn, Mr. Bobbsey did so.
“Guess we’ll have to give it up,” he said. “That agent spoke of several towns or villages between Hankertown and Coopertown, but we haven’t seen a single house. Yes, I’ll turn back.”
It was getting dusk now, and Mr. Bobbsey turned on the lights. He peered from side to side of the road, and tooted his horn at curves. Suddenly Nan exclaimed:
“Daddy, we didn’t pass that big rock before. Look!”
“That’s right,” her father admitted, as they swung around a boulder as large as a small house. “Whew, this is bad! I was afraid of this!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Bert.