Then the “chuc-a-chung” stopped for an instant, only to be heard off to the left as if miles away.
“That means,” explained Frank, “we’re rounding a curve and gettin’ the echo. It’s just as if the engine were talkin’. There, we’re behind the engine again,” cried the enthusiastic boy as the “chuc-a-chung” rang out again.
The dust of the prairie had now disappeared and as Nelse had swept and wiped up the platform, the sleepiest of the delighted travelers could not resist lingering to enjoy the mountain ride. The June-time heat of the plains had also changed to a cool night breeze that suggested sweaters. When, at last, a new and faster “chuc-a-chuck” of the big mountain engine told of the rapidly increasing grades, and a sudden curve of the train brought into view a distant summit glistening silvery white in the moonlight, Mr. Mackworth exclaimed:
“There it is, gentlemen! That’s the snow that we’ll have in sight for three weeks. Having saluted it, let’s go to bed.”
All arose, but Sam Skinner seemed a bit embarrassed.
“Colonel,” he said at last, addressing Mr. Mackworth, “you know I ain’t much for these sleepin’ cars. I slept on a shelf last night. If you don’t mind I’d like to draw these curtains and bring my blankets out here to-night.”
“Why there’s a couch in the dining room, Sam,” replied Mr. Mackworth, smiling. “Try that.”
“’Tain’t that, Colonel, exactly. But this air tastes good to me after four years down Winnipeg way. And you know I like to light a pipe now and then when I turn over.”
“We’ll stay with you,” exclaimed Phil at once.