“Will they come here and hurt us? Like those other pictures of the accident in the newspaper?”
“Pooh! No. They are a long way off, and cars can run nowhere except on a track made for them. A track, try to understand, Carlota! is a pair of iron or steel rails laid on the ground. The car and engine wheels are fixed on these rails and so they move.”
Carlota wrinkled her brows, then said:
“The way you tell it isn’t very—very understand-able. But how long is the pair of rails, brother?”
“Hundreds and thousands and, maybe, millions of miles. All around the whole world, I guess.”
She could not believe this statement. At first, she thought he was merely teasing her by its boastfulness, then feared that the heat had turned his brain. Maybe her own had been touched by the sun, too. Maybe there wasn’t any picture in the sky. And oh! how thirsty she was! She turned toward Benoni, and cried:
“Why, brother! See how rested Noni looks!”
“Yes. But—you don’t act as if you felt very well yourself. Are you sick, too?”
“I guess not. Only, do you s’pose we might ride just a little way, now, Carlos?”
“We must. I’ll help you on him.”