“How far do you boys want to go?” asked the conductor, as he came in to collect the fourth or fifth fare, the boys could not remember which, for the line was divided into zones, and the fare was taken up for each one.
“Oh, we’re just riding for fun,” explained Rick.
“To sort of kill time,” added Chot.
“Is there anything to see around here?” Rick wanted to know. “I mean a waterfall, or anything like that?”
“Well, there’s a sort of cave about a mile from here,” the conductor said. “It’s off the main road and it’s quite a curiosity. Sometimes on Saturdays picnic parties go there, but not many during the week. It’s about a mile from the trolley.”
“Let’s go there,” proposed Rick to his chum. “Can we get a car back to Fayetville before night?” he inquired.
“Oh, yes,” answered the conductor. “We run every half hour up to seven o’clock and every hour after that. I’ll tell you where to get off.”
The ride seemed more enjoyable now that the boys had a definite object in view, and they eagerly awaited word from the conductor when to alight and start across the fields and through a patch of woods, on a short cut to the cave, a local curiosity.
“Here you are, boys!” finally called the puller of the bell rope, as the car came to a stop amid the squeaking of brakes. “Just follow the path and you can’t miss the cave. There’s a wagon road that goes up to it, but that’s longer. You can come back the same way you go, as the cars always stop here about on the even hours and half hours so you’ll know how to time yourselves.”
“Thanks,” murmured Rick and Chot and they struck into a field of daisies and buttercups which they must traverse, as well as a patch of woods, before reaching the cave.