“Ain’t many trains from there,” answered the youth at the grindstone.
“But do you know what there are?”
“There’s a train north jest about due now.”
“And what is next?”
“A train south a leetle after four o’clock. An’ the freight goes through at seven.”
“Hurry, Roger!” cried Dave.
“Do you think they’d take a train, Dave?”
“I don’t know—I hope not.”
The two boys set off on a run, taking it easy at first, so as not to get winded. They passed a number of farms and presently came in sight of Barrelton, so called because of the barrel factory located there. From a distance they had heard the whistle of a locomotive, and knew that the north-bound train had stopped at the station and gone on.
“There is the station!” cried Dave, pointing up the railroad tracks. They continued to run and did not stop until they gained the platform. Here they met the ticket agent.