"Well, they shouldn't! Everything we have on will be covered with soot before we reach the town."
"That will mean more business for the dry-cleaners at Oak Creek," laughed Eleanor. Had she known that the place could not boast of any kind of a cleaning establishment, she would have laughed louder and longer at the novelty.
"I suppose this Oak Creek is the shopping center for all the smaller villages that are within motoring distance of it," surmised Barbara.
"I suppose so," agreed Eleanor, as she watched a man oil the wheels under the engine.
The man finished the work and straightened up. His face and hands were black from grease and oil and soot, but he smiled a friendly smile at the young ladies who were obviously waiting to board his train.
"She's all made up, leddies, ef you-all wants to git in."
"Mercy! Does he have to grin as if he were an old friend when he announces the fact?" complained Barbara, daintily picking her way between boxes and bags of freight.
"He's a genuine western type," laughed Eleanor, following her sister into the coach.
"Goodness gracious! Are we expected to sit on these old dusty plush seats?" cried Barbara, whipping the upholstery with her tiny handkerchief before she seated herself.
Again Eleanor laughed but she was not as merry as when she jumped from the Pullman that morning.