It was morning. Carl was sitting up on the ground, chilled and chattering.
At first he thought that skylight episode was not a dream, and he looked up to see the place he had come through. Instead of seeing anything so unsubstantial, his eyes encountered the face of Legree.
"You sleep like a log, Carl!" exclaimed Legree. "Where's Motor Matt? What's become of the automobile?"
Then, in a flash, Carl's hazy mind connected with the tangible things surrounding him when he went to sleep.
"Vy," he cried, struggling to his feet and staring around, "I vas in der car mit Modor Matt! I vent to shleep in it mit him."
"I know you did; but where are Matt and the car now?"
Carl rubbed his eyes again, and then took a more careful look about him.
He was standing in the very place where the car had stood. But there was no sign of the car! And no sign of Motor Matt!
The blanket Carl had taken into the Red Flier with him was lying crumpled on the ground, a dozen feet away.
"Vell, py shinks!" gasped Carl. "I don'd like dot. I don'd like some shokes vere sooch a monkey-doodle pitzness iss made mit me. Modor Matt nefer made dot shoke."