"Hope that silly cuckoo of a Slogger won't miss it!" exclaimed Holcombe, resting his hands on the Moke's back and peering through the narrow space betwixt the latter's broad shoulders and the top of the carriage window. "He promised he'd bring an accumulator along with him, and I want to have some fun with the beastly thing during the next few days."
It was nearly eight o'clock in the morning. The sun was on the point of rising, while over the town the retreating shadow of night still contended with the grey dawn of another day. Passengers in twos and threes, most of them carrying luggage, were hurrying towards the station in the knowledge that the 8 a.m., although it was usually later in starting, sometimes did steam out at five minutes to the hour. Still no signs of Slogger.
"Dash it all, the train's starting!" exclaimed the Moke, as a cloud of white vapour drifted from under the carriages.
"Not much," corrected Holcombe. "It's only the steam from the heating apparatus. The guard isn't ready yet."
He indicated the venerable official on whom under Providence depended the safety and welfare of such of His Majesty's lieges who adventured themselves upon the Lynbury and Marshton Branch Line. Usually the guard would walk along the platform, exchanging scraps of conversation with his patrons, most of whom he knew by name, but on this occasion he was seated on a large wicker hamper and was studiously and laboriously writing in a note-book.
Curiosity was one of the Moke's failings, in that he was unable to restrain an outward display of a desire for knowledge. The mere fact that the guard was seated within four yards of the carriage-window and yet failed to exchange the usual pleasantries with the hefty youth wearing the Claverdon College cap rather puzzled him.
"Hullo, guard!"
At this greeting the official raised his eyes, looked at Sylvester for a brief instant and resumed his absorbing task. It was too much for the Moke's curiosity.
"Hullo, guard!" he repeated. "You look busy."
It was just what the guard was waiting for. Slowly and deliberately he rose and walked up to the carriage window.