
Standing immediately before it, the four boys stared up at the cylindrical tank. It dwarfed them, even Dob. Bum set off round the contraption, reappearing moments later from behind one of the four wheels that were set one at each corner. The wheel alone was only slightly shorter than Bum himself.
‘Tyres are OK,’ he grinned, ‘slightly soft, but apart from this one,’ he put his hand on the offending rubber, ‘should be alright for moving.’