Tom and Ned were observed--shadows of black in the
glare--by Mary and her friends in the tank, but there was no
one else.
"Come on!" cried Ned. "We can find him, Tom!"
But this was easier said than done. Even though they were
aided by the bright light, they caught no glimpse of the man
who called himself Simpson.
"Guess he got away," said Tom, when he and Ned had circled
about and investigated many clumps of bushes, trees, stumps
and other barriers that might conceal the fugitive.
"I guess so," agreed Ned. "Unless he's hiding in what we
might call a shell crater."
"Hardly that," and Tom smiled. "Though if all goes well
the men who operate this tank later may be searching for men
in real shell holes."
"Is this one going to the other side?" asked Ned, as the
two walked back toward the tank.
"I hope it will be the first of my new machines on the
Western front," Tom answered. "But I've still got to perfect
it in some details and then take it apart. After that, if it
comes up to expectations, we'll begin making them in
quantities.
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