"There are a dozen reasons, Miss Adair; the track is fearfully rough—really, you know, it isn't safe for a big car like the Nadia. There are only a few sidings, and what there are, are filled up with construction stuff and camp cars, and—"
She was shaking her head and laughing at his strivings.
"Never mind," she said; "you can't tell the truth, either, with Mr. Ford looking on. But I shall find it out."
Frisbie looked horrified.
"You—you certainly will, Miss Adair; if Mr. Colbrith insists upon having his car dragged over the range." Then, being quite willing to make his escape, he turned to his chief. "Is there anything else? If not, I'll be getting back to the Riley mix-up before the trouble has time to grow any bigger."
Ford shook his head, and Frisbie lifted his hat to Miss Adair and turned to climb to his engine cab. But at the moment of brake-releasings Ford halted him.
"One minute," he said; and turning to his charge: "I'll borrow Dick's engine and take you down to the Nadia's siding, if you'd rather ride than walk."
"Oh, will you? That would be fine! But oughtn't Mr. Frisbie to get back to his work?"
"Y-yes," Ford admitted. "Time is rather important, just now."
"Then we'll walk," she said with great decision.