Jeanette made no response, but her fingers closed tighter on the little box Cecil had given her. She stared out of the window at the gathering dusk. The landscape was fading out of sight. Night was at hand.
The train was in motion again, but it was a backward motion. The freight train ahead blocked their line. A broken axle was the cause, and it would be some time before it could be repaired.
Meantime orders had come for the switching of the east-bound passenger train to the west-bound tracks.
They ran back for some time, till they reached a switch, then swung across the rails to the west-bound track.
As they gathered speed and carefully crept past the crippled freight they could see men with lanterns working in the gathering gloom.
"We are on the wrong track," said Jeanette. "I do hope we won't run into a west-bound flier."
"Now you're talking like our friend Tom Furniss," said Mrs. Perry.
"Before you reformed him," added Jeanette, and they both laughed.
In a little while the danger zone was passed and they were switched back to the east-bound track.