Quite different were the sensations of the two city girls, to those of Anne Stewart, as they passed over the same route and saw the same country. Perhaps it was the difference in training more than the ideals of the three girls.
"Nolla, can all the houses be as horrid as those we have passed by?" asked Barbara, nodding at a group of log-houses.
"I don't know, but they certainly are smaller than the homes in Chicago, aren't they?" rejoined Eleanor, gazing in open curiosity at the scenery and buildings so different from that of the city.
"Smaller! Why, they are simply poverty-stricken in looks!" exclaimed
Barbara in disgust.
The nearer the train came to Oak Creek, the smaller and rougher the houses seemed, until the guard called out:
"Oak Crick! Here's your station!"
The girls gazed at each other in consternation, for the place was little more than a rough mining settlement, or ranch-town.
The brakeman caught up the leather bags and jumped from the slowing train. He planked them down regardless of contents, and ran off to the station. It was an old discarded box-car shoved on a siding to do duty as ticket-office and freight station.
The girls hurried out to the car platform and Barbara asked: "Nolla, why don't you call the porter?"
"They never had one on this line!" Then stepping down side-ways from the high narrow steps of the train, Eleanor cried: