All of which doesn’t help us feel any better. But the second night we’ve got the hill in wonderful shape and we’re having such a good time that we forget all about Crabby even existing. Talk about coasting! Say, the first time down the hill we broke all long distance records. You know, Pierson’s creek is at the bottom and the farthest we’d ever gone before was just to the bridge but this trip we’re still traveling like the wind and go about half a block beyond ... a good mile and a quarter’s slide.
“Wow!” yells Pete. “If we never take another coast, this was worth all the trouble we’ve been to...!”
“Yeah,” kids Dill, “but remember this ... the farther we slide, the farther we’ve got to walk back!”
“In the snow for that wisecrack!” say Rod, and pushes Dill head first into a big drift.
You can see from this how good we’re feeling. The old moon is out, a little lopsided but almost full. There’s quite a stiff breeze blowing, though, which races big hunks of clouds across the sky. The kind of weather Pete says is nice enough now but which has all the earmarks of a change.
Well, we’re on our way up the hill again, talking and joshing, when the wind brings us the three long toots of the night train as it’s coming into town and somehow it makes us all think of a certain party.
“I wonder how Crabby’s sister is?” Rod asks, kind of casual like.
“Aw, he’s only been gone a little over two days,” scoffs Pete. “You needn’t be expecting him back yet!”
“I know ... but maybe that’s all the longer his sister could stand him,” Rod comes back, with a grin. “Anyhow, I don’t breathe easy till half an hour after every train comes in!”
“Especially when we’ve all got a sneaking hunch that Crabby, after going to all that work, isn’t going to stay away any longer’n he can help!” sums up Dill.