“Tickets for Ashmead,” intoned a voice at the carriage window.
“We are for Abbeylands Station,” said Harold.
“Abb’l’ns,” said the guard. “Why, sir, you know the Abb’l’ns train started six minutes ago.”
CHAPTER XLIV.—ON THE SHORTCOMINGS OF A SYSTEM.
HAROLD was out of the compartment in a moment. Did the guard mean that the train had actually left for Abbeylands? It had left six minutes before, the guard explained, and the station-master added his guarantee to the statement.
Harold looked around—from platform to platform—as if he fancied that there was a conspiracy between the officials to conceal the train.
How could the train leave without taking all its carriages with it?
It did nothing of the kind, the station-master said, firmly but respectfully.