There was a last vigorous waving of handkerchiefs out of the window. Suddenly a wail burst from Blue Bonnet: "Solomon! Solomon!"
All looked at one another aghast. In the excitement of the last moments no one had thought of the dog.
"Find Bennie Blake—he had Solomon last," cried Blue Bonnet, rushing to the platform.
"I'll find him, don't you worry," exclaimed Alec, swinging down the steps just as the first creaks of the car gave notice of starting.
"Alec—you'll get left!" cried Blue Bonnet. "There's Bennie,—oh, quick!"
Sure enough, there on the edge of the crowd was Bennie, but alack!—no Solomon.
"Stop the train, can't you, Uncle Cliff?" wailed Blue Bonnet. "Alec will be left—and Solomon too—"
Uncle Cliff leaped to the bottom step,—the train was still only crawling,—and with one hand on the rail leaned out and peered after Alec. Blue Bonnet gave a nervous clutch at his sleeve. What he saw evidently reassured Mr. Ashe, for suddenly he straightened up and held out both arms. A second later a brown furry object came hurtling through the air and was caught ignominiously by the tail. Quick as a flash Uncle Cliff tossed the indignant Solomon to Blue Bonnet, and bent down to lend a helping hand to Alec. That young gentleman scrambled up with more haste than elegance, just as the train ceased to crawl and settled down to the real business of travelling.
"I'll never forget this, Alec Trent, as long as I live,—I think you deserve a Carnegie medal!" Blue Bonnet cried fervently. "I'd never get over it if Solomon should be lost."
"He wouldn't have been—lost, exactly," returned Alec in an odd tone.