The three talked over the situation for a long time. Oliver was glad that he had run across Mr. Whyland. It would undoubtedly lighten his task to a great degree. The gentleman was experienced and rich, and that would count for a good deal in what was to come.
The remainder of the day passed quickly. In the evening they went aboard of the steamer for the last time. All slept soundly, and were up at a seasonable hour.
“What an odd little railroad!” remarked Gus, as they boarded the train in the morning. “Only a single track.”
“It is only about forty-eight miles long,” said Mr. Whyland, “but it cost an enormous sum of money to build.”
Soon there was a tremendous jerk, and they were off on the trip across the isthmus. Oliver looked out of the window at the marshy ground, and the rank pools of stagnant water.
Suddenly they came to a sharp stop. What was up now?
CHAPTER XIV.
IN THE WILDS OF THE ISTHMUS.
Oliver calculated that they had been traveling not more than an hour when the sudden stoppage occurred. The shock was so great it threw him up against the seat in front of him, and awoke Gus from a comfortable nap.