"Pretty near, miss. There's a great piece of timber across the line. Luckily the driver saw it and just pulled up in time, and a miss is as good as a mile, isn't it?"
"How horrible!" ejaculated Nan. "Who d'you think put it there?"
"One of they Bolshies, I expect. We've got more of them in England than we've any need for."
"I hope you'll soon get the line clear?"
The guard shook his head discouragingly.
"Well, it'll take a bit of time, miss. Whoever did, the job did it thoroughly, and even when we get clear we'll have to go slow and keep a sharp look-out."
"Then I shall miss my connection at Exeter—on to Abbencombe by the
South-Western?"
"I'm afraid you will, miss."
Her face fell.
"It's better than missing a limb or two, or your life, maybe," observed the guard with rebuke in his tones.