CHAPTER XXIII
CRAZY STUFF
One thing sure, those auto thieves weren't on our train; they didn't get on at any of those three places, Ozone Valley or Ridgeboro or Skiddyunk. The two sheriffs got off at Skiddyunk again, to keep a watch when the late train came through. The Skiddyunk Station was all dark. As we left it the wheels kept saying, "s'long, s'long," and pretty soon we couldn't see it at all, and I knew that the country where we had had so much fun was way back there in the dark and that probably we'd never see it any more.
That was a single-track railroad and as we stood on the back platform, we could see the two shiny rails going away back into the dark.
"Let's go and sit down," I said; "I'm tired."
We had a shoe box full of eats that the girls at Camp Smile Awhile had given us and, yum, yum, those sandwiches were good.
Pretty soon a brakeman came staggering through, holding onto the seats. He had a red lantern and he hung it on the back platform. "So's the flyer won't bunk her nose into us," he said.
"Reg'lar private car, you kids got," he said.
I said, "When do you think we'll get to Bridgeboro, New Jersey?"