"And it—really—does look like him! Let's run! We have just about time to get to that house. Come out this side. There, give me your hand," and Tavia, glancing back to the figure in the road, took Dorothy's hand and urged her on over the rough path, until Dorothy felt she must fall from fright and exhaustion.
The road to the farm house was on a little side path turning off from the one followed by the boys on their way to the blacksmith shop. Having once gained the spot where the roads met, Tavia stopped to look back at the car.
"I declare!" she gasped. "He is climbing into the machine."
"Oh, what shall we do?" wailed Dorothy.
"Can't do a thing but hide here until the boys come. We can see him if he gets out, but if we went over to the house we might miss the boys, and they might run right into his arms."
"Oh," cried Dorothy. "I am so dreadfully frightened. Don't you suppose we can get any help until the boys come?"
"Not unless someone happens to pass. And this is a back road: no one seems to go home from work this way."
"Oh, if someone only would!" and Dorothy was now almost in tears.
"Just see!" exclaimed Tavia, "he is examining the front now. Suppose he could start it up?"
"But he cannot," Dorothy declared, "if the car worked the boys would never have left us here all alone," and again she was dangerously near shedding tears.