“You haven’t come away from there yet,” said Ray; “we may be all killed in a railroad accident yet.”
“But we can’t count on it,” said Fuller; “the Snailsdale branch is so uncertain. Let’s see, we go back north, don’t we? All around the mulberry bush, hey?”
After a tiresome ride of about five minutes the main line train switched their car over to a siding at Woodsend Junction where the Snailsdale branch train picked it up some time later. In the fulness of time they made Hickson Crossing, then Hawley’s, then passed the road where the phantom station had hidden coyly in the fog, and were then on the home stretch for Snailsdale Manor. They were, in point of fact, nearer to the farm than they had been at Westover, but Ray and Fuller arose, stretched themselves, brushed off their clothing and glanced out of the car window as if they were beholding a strange and foreign scene. This greatly exasperated Pee-wee.
“This is a pleasant looking place,” said Fuller; “I hope the natives will prove friendly.”
“They’re nothing but a lot of porch lizards,” Pee-wee said.
“Good,” said Ray, “I was afraid there wouldn’t be any animals here at all.”
“I dare say we can find a seal if we go to the notary public’s office,” said Fuller.
“How about that, Scout?” queried Ray.
But Scout did not answer. He seemed to be thinking. Suddenly his voice arose like tropical thunder, “Now you see!” he said. “It serves you right! It serves you right! The third house up the road is the Snailsdale House! So there! You see those two houses? There isn’t another one till you get to the Snailsdale House and we’ve got to stay a whole week where there are a lot of old ladies! Now you see what you get for not knowing where we’re at. And that girl is there, too, and now she’ll meet you. Now you see! Now you see what you get for not having respect for destinations!”