“She didn’t come,” he announced. “Get ap!”
“Hold on!” cried Chub, hurrying to the curb. “Are you sure she wasn’t on the train?”
“Course I am.”
“Didn’t she send any—any message or anything?”
“No, not that I know of.”
“When is the next train?”
“’Bout ’leven o’clock, I guess. Get ap.”
“Well, now what are we going to do?” demanded Chub, as the white horse ambled away again. Harry shook her head.
“I’d like to tell Jennie what I think of her,” said Chub aggrievedly. “Nice way for her to act. We can’t sit here until eleven o’clock and wait for her. We’ll just have to shut up shop.”