It was three o’clock in the afternoon when the girls reached the junction, a bleak little place with a low-roofed station, black and dirty. A hotel stood at the corner—a rough saloon. An engine with a coach usually waited on this narrow gauge track, but this afternoon there was none. Before she entered the waiting-room Miss Wilson looked about, expressing her surprise at the condition of affairs.
“The worst is yet to come,” cried a voice back of them. The girls turned to discover the ticket agent, just about to leave for home.
“The narrow gauge is storm-stayed. You will not be able to go through to-night.”
“Then we’ll turn about and go to Exeter.”
“Not to-night. The last train pulled out just before No. 10 came in. There’s a hotel over there—”
“Yes, we smelled it,” said Elizabeth seriously.
He laughed, and inquired where they were going. Then he suggested a plan. The hotel was not a suitable place in which to spend the night, and they could not return to Exeter; but he would find for them a trustworthy driver who would take them safely to Windburne.
There was no choice. Mary accepted his offer. The girls stayed in the dingy waiting-room until he returned with a sleigh, horses and driver.
“This man will take you there safely,” he said, with a nod toward the driver. “He knows the road and knows, too, how to handle horses to get the most out of them.” He assisted the girls into the sleigh, tucking the robes well about them. A moment later, they were speeding along the country road. The sleighing was fine but the wind had a clear sweep over the bare fields, and it had grown much colder. They began to shiver in spite of their heavy wraps.
“We are over half-way there,” encouraged Mary. “The farmhouse we have just passed is six miles from Ridgway. I know the roads about here. This is beautiful in summer time. Landis Stoner lives in the last farmhouse along this road. After we pass there, we won’t see another for five miles, and when we do it will be Windburne. There, you can catch a glimpse of the place now.”