“Well! that’s lucky,” said Lucy. “If this odor prevailed I should say the place ought to be called Un-pleasant Cove.”
“How far are we from the jumping-off place?” demanded Agnes. “I’d like to get out and run.”
Pearl stooped to look out under one of the drawn shades. “Why!” she said, “there are only two more stops before we reach the Cove station. It’s a winding way the railroad follows. But if we got off about here and went right through those woods yonder, we’d reach the Spoondrift bungalow in an hour. I’ve walked over here to Jumpertown many a time.”
“Jumpertown?”
“Yes. That’s what they called it before the real estate speculators gave it the fancy name of ‘Ridgedale Station.’”
At that moment the train suddenly slowed down. The brakes grated upon the wheels and everybody clung to the seats for support. One of the brakemen ran through from the front and the girls clamored to know the cause of the stoppage.
“Bridge down up front,” said the railroad employee. “Tide rose last night and loosened the supports. We’ve got to wait.”
“Oh, dear me!” was the general wail. When they could get hold of the conductor the girls demanded to know the length of time they would be delayed.
“Can’t tell you, young ladies,” declared the man of the punch. “There’s a repair gang at work on it now.”
“An hour?” demanded Pearl Harrod.