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'.

"I don't suppose you carry such a thing as an emergency can of gasoline
anywhere in the car?" she asks Barry.

"I'm sure I don't know," says he. "The fellow in the garage insisted on
selling me a lot of stuff once. It's all stowed under the seat."

"Let's see," says she, liftin' out the cushion. "Why yes, here it is--a
whole quart. And a little funnel, too. Now if we could pour enough into
the feed pipe to fill the carburetor----"

It was a grand little scheme, only the funnel end was too big to fit
into the feed pipe.

"Any tire tape?" demands Ann.

Barry thought there was, but we couldn't find it. Then he remembered
he'd used it to wrap the handle of his tennis racquet once.

"I got some gum," says I.

"The very thing!" says Ann. "It must be chewed first though. Here,
Barry, take two or three pieces."

"But I don't care for gum," says Barry. "Really!"

"If you don't wish to spend the night here, chew--and chew fast," says
Ann.

So he chewed. We all chewed. And with the three fresh gobs Ann did a
first aid plumbin' job that didn't look so worse. She got the funnel so
it would stick on the pipe.

"But it must be held there," she announces. "I'll tell you, Barry; you
will have to hang out over the back and keep the funnel in place with
one hand and pour in the gas with the other, while I drive."

"Oh, I say!" says Barry. "I'd look nice, wouldn't I?"

"Torchy will hold you by the legs to keep you from falling off," she
goes on. "Come, unbutton the back curtain and roll it up. There! Now out
you go. And don't spill a drop, mind."

It sure was an ingenious way of feedin' gas to an engine, and I had my
doubts about whether it would work or not. But it does. Fir