“You guys sure are the berries,” he said with an ironic smile. “You’ll never get anywhere that way.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Joe corrected him. “We will and you won’t, unless you get such notions out of your head.”
“Ah, blooey!”
A half-hour of silence followed, during which time the three gazed absently out, watching the farms, the forests, the rivers and creeks slip by. They were beginning to enter the Appalachian Mountains, and more of natural beauty promised to be visible.
But Bob and Joe did not care to observe the beauties of nature just then. Their thoughts were dwelling on the probabilities of the future. What lay in store for them? Would they be able to get home in time to accompany their fathers to the Andes Mountains, or would fate rule that they remain for an indefinite period in this box car? If the truth were known, the youths were not a little worried.
Darkness was beginning to enshroud the travelers, and the necessity of making improvised beds moved them to action. There was a large pile of burlap sacks in a far corner of the car. These they arranged a short distance from the partly open door.
“I don’t think these bags are inhabited,” smiled Joe. “They look almost brand-new. At any rate we’ll take a chance with them.”
“We’ll have to,” agreed Bob, who realized the necessity of a rest after such an arduous day.
However, the travelers spent an hour or so longer gazing out at the dim outlines of the mountains. Although Bob and Joe were tired, they had an uneasy feeling about resigning themselves over to sleep. Something unexpected might happen during the night.
Finally Bob arose and walked over to his bunk.