“Perhaps not in our lifetimes,” smiled Joe. “Large enterprises like that come very slowly.”
An hour before train time everything was in readiness, and it was Mr. Holton who suggested that they go down to the railroad station.
The others were in favor of doing so, and as it was but a short distance away they were content to walk and carry their belongings. There was a good-sized load, but it was distributed evenly without anyone being overtaxed.
At the station they checked the things securely and safely. Even then they had a leisure half-hour.
“You may be surprised at sight of the train,” said Fekmah.
And they were. The Americans had expected to see rickety wood coaches attached to an incapable locomotive, but instead they saw a large, fine train of the French design.
“All due to the influence of France, I suppose,” remarked Dr. Kirshner, as he followed the others up in the coach.
A few minutes later they felt a slight jerk and the train began moving slowly away from the station. Gradually it picked up speed, and before long Algiers disappeared on the horizon.
“We’re off!” said Joe enthusiastically. “Before long we’ll see the great Sahara Desert!”
It required but a few minutes to reach Maison Carrée, and after a short stop they began the journey in earnest. Rapidly they passed through cultivated fields, orange groves, and vineyards, heading for the mountains. Small farmhouses were left behind, their owners laboring in the fields. Villages inhabited largely by whites were passed, and occasionally a five-horse cart loaded with swarthy Arabs could be seen winding slowly along the shaded roads.