That seemed sensible enough. So we spreads out across the road and goes scoutin' down the hill. Didn't seem likely a thing as big as that could hide itself completely, even if it had bounced off into the bushes. But we got clear to the bottom without findin' so much as its track. On we goes, pawin' through the bushes, scoutin' the ditches on both sides, and peekin' behind trees.
"Come, little tankey, come to your master," calls Barry persuasive. Then he tries whistlin' for it.
"Well, we're sure to find it somewhere down that next hill," says Ann. "Probably near that water-break where you gave us such a hard jolt."
But we didn't. In fact, we scouted back over the road for nearly a mile with no signs of the bloomin' thing.
"Then we've missed it," finally decides Ann. "Of course no car could run this far without gas."
"You don't know Adelbaran," says Barry. "He's quite used to running without things. I've trained him to do it."
"Barry, this is no time to be funny," says she. "Now you take the left side going back. I'll bet you overlooked it."
Well, we made a regular drag-net on the return trip, scourin' the bushes for twenty feet on either side, but no tank turns up.
"Looks like we were stranded," says I, as we fetches up at the roadster once more.
Miss Ann McLeod, though, ain't one to give up easy. Besides, she's had all that efficiency trainin'.