They had been traveling for some time when Eleanor said, "You told the conductor to let us off at Brookside, didn't you, Rock? That place we just passed looked like it, but I am not sure if it is the place."
"I told him," returned Rock, "but maybe he forgot. I'll ask him." This he did to find that they had passed the place and were told that it wasn't very far and they could walk back.
"I call that pretty cool," said Rock as they scrambled down from the car, "but we've got to make the best of it, I suppose."
They trudged along for a little distance when suddenly they came to a high trestle before which Eleanor stood aghast. "I never can go over that," she declared.
"Oh, yes, you can," said Rock. "I'll walk ahead and take your two hands," but Eleanor shrank from such a proceeding.
"I couldn't! I couldn't," she insisted, "it makes me sick to think of it, and then suppose a car should come along."
"No, they only come every half hour, and it is a single track so the down car doesn't start till the up car gets to the terminus, the conductor told me, so that's all right," Rock tried to reassure her by saying.
But Eleanor was firm and at last clambered down the embankment and discovered a place narrow enough for her to cross the little stream running below. Bubbles fearfully followed, and they managed to scramble up the bank, reaching the other side almost as soon as Rock and Florence. But this was not the end of their adventures.
CHAPTER XI
Don and a Pony