Tom and Bill came rushing up at the moment, charging with their barrows. They were wholly untroubled with shyness, and loudly announced that Tom was a Midland express from Glasgow, and Bill a pilot engine. Gaunt stopped and gravely shook hands with each, holding the plump, earthy moist little fingers curiously in his brown, muscular grip. Then he picked up Bill by his waist, and seated him upon his shoulder. "Now you're in the look-out—the signal-box," said he. "Is the line clear?"
This was enchanting. Bill shouted to Tom to go and be the excursion and seized Gaunt's hand, drawing back his arm to represent a lever.
"I'm off'ring the 4.10 to Manton box!" he cried.
"Fancy your playing with them," said Joey, deeply gratified. "That's what Virgie did. Bill, you remember the pretty lady who came to tea and told you about little Runt? This is her husband, that she belongs to."
"Oh, are you?" cried the excursion train, turning right round upon the permanent way in horrifying fashion. "Tell us about little Runt again—do!"
"I don't know that story, Bill. I'll have to get the pretty lady to tell it to me, then perhaps I can pass it on."
"Where is she?" cried Tom. "Have you got her here?"
"No, Tom. She has gone to be with her own little sister, who is ill. I dare say she tells her stories, to pass the time while she has to be in bed, flat on her back."
"Flat on her back? Beastly!" said Tom.
"Why's that for?" asked his brother.