“But why do you bother to take them around with you all the time, like that?” inquired his friend.
“Oh,” replied Ned, “I do that so as to be ready to catch any choice scenes I come across; I’m making a collection of views, you know, and I expect to get a good many on this trip. By the way, I got some stunning views over there at your place this morning, just before breakfast.”
“The dickens, you did!” exclaimed Tom, suddenly remembering a ludicrous predicament in which his guest had caught him.
“Oh, yes,” said Ned, “and when I get away at a safe distance I’m going to develop them and send them to you. I’ve got an awfully fine––well, by Jove, if that isn’t just my luck!”
Ned had just deposited his belongings on the depot platform and in doing so, noticed a piece of blackboard propped up against the wall, on which were chalked these words, “Train 3 ours late.” His eyes seemed riveted to the spot.
“What’s the matter now?” asked Tom, who took in the situation at a glance.
“Matter! Why, that blasted train is three hours behind time.”
“Too bad!” said Tom, with a grin; “if I’d only known that I needn’t have driven my horses so hard.”
“Oh, confound those little beasts of yours;” exclaimed Ned, “a little exercise won’t hurt them, but to think of three hours in a place like this! and say, don’t you know how to spell out here?”
“Well,” said Tom, coolly, “I don’t hold myself personally responsible for the wording of that blackboard, but I suppose that’s the phonetic spelling they used to talk about when I lived east; you see we’ve adopted it out here, for we westerners have to rustle lively, and don’t have time for old-fashioned ways.”