“You can wash up at the station,” said Martin. “Who knows when the cars run over to Darlington?”
An uneasy silence followed. Then Bob said: “What about it, Cal? You asked, didn’t you?”
“I asked when the trains went,” replied Cal. “I—I suppose the cars go every ten minutes or so, don’t they?”
“What time is it now?” asked Martin bruskly.
“Five to eight,” answered Willard.
With one accord the four broke into a trot. “If we miss that train we’re dished!” said Bob. “Seems to me you’d find out something, Cal, while you were at it! What time does the train go?”
“Eight-thirty-eight,” replied Cal. “You didn’t ask me to find out about the trolley. I thought you knew about it. How was I to know—”
“Save your breath for running,” advised Bob coldly. “If we can’t get a trolley we’ll have to foot it.”
“Gee, we’ll never do it in thirty minutes!” exclaimed Martin.