“It’s the locomotive!” cried Gus. “They are getting ready to start!”
“Hurry up,” cried Oliver. “Come, this way.”
And he sprang off through the bushes at the top of his speed. It was a rough journey, but what was that compared to the agonizing thought that they might be left behind?
Fortunately the steam-whistle continued sounding, and it proved a good guide; for in ten minutes more they reached the railroad track, and just beyond stood the train, all ready to start.
“Thank fortune!” cried Oliver, and he waved his hand to the conductor to wait for them.
In another moment they were safe on board and in their seats, and then the train with a final warning moved off.
“Where have you two been?” asked Mr. Whyland, gazing in astonishment at their torn clothing and wet feet; “I was very much afraid you might miss the train.”
“You weren’t half as much scared about it as we were,” responded Gus ruefully.
Oliver told their story. Mr. Whyland smiled, but shook his head.
“Both of you want to be more careful,” he said. “Those flowers may have been poisonous, and also the snakes. It is well enough to go out on a tour of inspection, but one must be mighty cautious.”