'So he ran away,' said Doyle, still not quite believing it. 'But he might still be around somewhere, out there in the dark.'
'No,' said Mabel, 'he is not around. He went up the hollow as fast as he could go, like a dog when his master calls. It was dark and I was scared, but I ran after him. I called and kept on following, but it was no use-I knew that he was gone.'
She sat up straight in the seat.
'It don't make no difference now,' she said. 'You don't need him any longer. Although I am sorry that he ran away. He'da made a dandy pet. He talked so nice-so much nicer than a parakeet-and he was so good. I tied a ribbon, a yellow piece of ribbon around his neck and you never seen anything so cute.'
'I just bet he was,' said Doyle.
And he was thinking of a rolla, rocketing through space in a new-grown ship, heading out for a far-off sun and taking with him possibly some of man's greatest hopes, all fixed up and cute with a ribbon round his neck