For a few moments Carl stood rooted to the ground. Then he had an idea.
"Meppy Matt und Tick vas coming pack tovards town to pick me oop!" he murmured, and continued to stand still and watch.
But the Hawk did not turn around and come in Carl's direction. On the contrary, it kept moving off toward the south and west.
"Ach, vat a pad pitzness!" groaned Carl. "Matt!" he yelled, as loud as he could, starting to run along the road and waving his satchel as he went, "vy don'd you vait for your Dutch pard, Matt? Haf you gone back on me?"
If Carl's voice had been strong enough to reach a mile, his yelling might have ascended to the ears of those in the car. As it was, however, Carl might as well have shouted into the empty air. But he was excited, and hardly knew what he was about.
When he came opposite the balloon house he hardly gave it a look; and he was making so much noise himself that he was unable to hear the calls coming from the small addition in the rear of the big shed.
On and on along the road went Carl, keeping up his frenzied pace. He got beyond the big mills, and then, after he had got past the smoke from their huge chimneys, he saw that the air ship had disappeared. Utterly dejected, and tired out with his hard run, he sat down on a rock near the roadside.
"I nefer vouldt haf t'ought dot oof Modor Matt," he wheezed mournfully. "All along I haf hat some hunches dot I vouldn't ged avay in dot air ship py New York. Vell, vell! Der pest friendt vat I efer hat has vent pack on me, und I vas a shdray Dutchman mit fife tollars in my bocket und no blace to go."
While Carl mused in this lugubrious strain, a girl came toward him along the road. Her clothes were dusty, and her face was haggard. She was pretty, in spite of her weariness and her coarse clothes, and there was a dauntless gleam in her dark eyes. When she came close to Carl she paused.
Carl pulled off his hat.