“D-did you see who that was?” he demanded. “It was Star Meyer! He pushed me off the step! He—he kicked me off! I might have been killed! You wait! You wait till I——”
But Jimmy was fairly gibbering now. Dud handed his straw hat to him. “Never mind about that now,” he said impatiently. “The question is how we’re to get to Greenbank. How far is it?”
“I don’t know. You wait till I get my hands on that—that——”
“Let’s find out,” interrupted Dud anxiously. “The game’s at two-thirty and it must be half-past one now. Maybe there’s another train that will get us there in time, Jimmy.”
Jimmy stopped his mouthings and hurried after Dud to the waiting-room, unconscious of the curious regard of the small audience. The agent was most unsympathetic. He had been chivied by the fellows and made sport of and he seemed to think that it served these two young rascals just about right. His replies to their anxious questions were short and discouraging. No, there wasn’t another train to Greenbank before two-forty-eight. No, he didn’t know how they were to get there by half-past two. (His tone implied that he hoped they wouldn’t!) Yes, they might be able to get a carriage to drive them over. There was a livery stable about a mile down the road there. And the distance to Greenbank by rail was nine miles.
They retired to consider. A mile walk to the livery stable didn’t appeal to them and Dud suggested telephoning. Fortunately, there was a booth in the corner of the waiting-room and Jimmy possessed a nickel. They crowded in and at last, after much delay, got the stable. But the voice at the other end was not at all reassuring. They had carriages enough and horses enough, but just now there wasn’t anyone to drive ’em. If they could wait until two o’clock maybe Billy would be back from Chester. Jimmy impatiently suggested that they could drive themselves and the stable could send a man over to Greenbank on the train to bring the team back. But that didn’t appear feasible to the man on the telephone. Mr. Libby, it appeared, had gone to the city. (Mr. Libby, they gathered, was the proprietor.) If Mr. Libby was there maybe he’d let ’em have a rig, but the speaker declined to shoulder the responsibility. In short, the only course was to await the return of Billy at two—or maybe half-past—or three, at the latest!
Jimmy hung up the receiver impatiently.
“I suppose there isn’t a trolley?” murmured Dud. They consulted the agent once more. He showed peevishness at being required to awake from his nap and open the window again and took evident pleasure in informing them that the nearest trolley line was four miles distant and that it didn’t go to Greenbank, anyway; leastways, not direct; it went to West Shoreham first. The window descended with a venomous bang.
Dud and Jimmy, hands in pockets, wandered disconsolately back to the platform. There was an unoccupied baggage truck there and they seated themselves on it and swung their legs and stared forlornly at a field of potatoes.
“I dunno,” murmured Jimmy hopelessly.