“You ought to have seen the way I beat a train, fellows,” he gloated. “My, but it took some tall speeding.”
“Beat a train?” questioned Tom, incredulously.
“What was it—a freight?” bantered Dick.
“Freight nothing,” retorted Bert, a little nettled. “A limited express, if you ask me.”
“Near Newark, did you say?” queried Tom.
“I didn’t say,” was Bert’s rejoinder, “but as it happened, it was just outside of Newark.”
“Beat a limited express,” murmured Dick, shaking his head. “Tom, I’m afraid Bert’s stringing us.”
“Imposing on our innocence, it seems to me,” assented Tom, gloomily. “The next thing, he’ll be telling us that he made a daredevil dash across the track in front of the locomotive.”
“And waved his cap at the passengers,” mourned Dick.
“And shook it at the engineer,” added Tom.