Matt ignored it as he went to the car. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "The fuel gauge registers three-quarters full. We can cover a lot of ground in the car."
"Do you suppose it's in running order?" Captain Bascom asked.
Matt shrugged. "We can see. It's an old-type internal combustion engine." He glanced down at the wheels. "Those are foam rubber tires. They're O.K. The motor shouldn't have rusted, protected like this."
He slid behind the wheel. The key was in the ignition; he switched it on and pressed the starter button. The motor ground and then burst into noisy sputtering life.
"Get in," he said.
They all bundled into the sedan. Matt backed out of the barn, turned around and drove cautiously along the rutted drive.
They passed the house and reached a dirt road in front. "Which way?" asked Matt.
Captain Bascom said, "Left. Away from the hills."
Matt nodded and turned into the dirt road. He had to drive slowly, because in places there were wash-outs, and the road was grown up with weeds. A narrow game trail ran down the center, but that was the only evidence that the road had been used.
They passed other silent, deserted farm houses.