“We mean to stay,” Austin agreed. “Florence and Ted have got a holiday, and when I do get off the bridge I’m not keen about rushing back.”
“It’s going to storm, Bob. We ought to start,” Miss Grey remarked.
“You can’t start,” Austin rejoined. “The loading gang have got the caboose and the engineer won’t carry the lot in his cab. Besides, she’s a greasy old service loco, and you must think about your clothes.”
Miss Grey gave him a keen glance. “You’re bluffing, Bob! Kit has framed it up for you to keep me.”
“I want to stay; Ted wants to stay, and if you go we’ll be lonesome,” said Austin humorously. “Be a sport and see us out!”
“Florence is a sport, but she’s blamed obstinate,” Harries remarked.
Miss Grey turned and faced her lover, and Kit stole away. Running behind the cars, he jumped on board the locomotive.
“My stuff is on the car. Start her up.”
The big engine snorted, the wheels began to roll, and Kit looking from the window saw Miss Grey push back Harries and run for the line. The noisy cars, however, were going fast, and Kit was satisfied to know she could not get on board. He was resolved to see Alison, and he imagined that when he did so Florence had meant to be about.
When the train stopped at the bridge, thin snow had begun to fall and the light was going. Kit went to the office and Mrs. Austin got up languidly from a camp chair. By contrast with the biting frost, the small room was hot, and Mrs. Austin’s look was dully surprised.