Bessie's heart sank. She wondered if the conductor, should be really be suspicious, could make them go back, or keep them from getting off the train at Pine Bridge.
"No, he wasn't any relative of ours at all," she said.
"Seems to me he was shouting about you two, though," said the conductor. "Hey, Jim!"
He called the brakeman.
"Say, Jim, didn't it look to you like that hayseed was trying to stop these two from gettin' aboard instead of tryin' to catch the train himself?"
"Never thought of that," said Jim, scratching his head. "Guess maybe he was, though. Maybe we'd better send 'em back from Pine Bridge."
"That's what I'm thinking," said the conductor.
"We've paid our fare. You haven't any right to do that," said Bessie, stoutly, although she was frightened. "And I tell you that man isn't our father. He hasn't got anything to do with us—"
"He seemed to think so, and I believe that was why you came running that way to catch the train, without any tickets. You say he's not your father. Who is he? Do you know him at all?"
Bessie wished she could say that she did not; wished she could, truthfully, deny knowing Farmer Weeks at all. But not even to avert what looked like a serious danger would she lie.