Presently the car started with a jerk. However, instead of proceeding toward the station it backed into the railroad yard.
“Now what?” Penny demanded impatiently. “Aren’t we ever going to start?”
The porter hastened through the car, his manner noticeably nervous and tense. He paid no heed to a woman passenger who sought to detain him.
“Something’s wrong!” Penny said with conviction.
“A wash-out, do you think?”
“Might be. Let’s see what we can learn.”
With a vague feeling of foreboding they could not have explained, the girls arose and followed the porter. Something was amiss. They were certain of it.
Losing sight of the colored man, they kept on until they reached the rear platform. Penny started to open the screen door. Just then the train whistle sounded a shrill, unending blast.
Startled, Louise gripped her chum’s hand, listening tensely.
In the car behind, they heard the conductor’s husky voice. He was shouting: “Run! Run, for your lives! Take to the hills!”