“But—here, hold on!” Jimmy followed at a trot. “What’s the use, Dud? We won’t get there until the game’s ’most over, and——”
“Can’t help it. I started out to see that game and I’m going to! Besides, a fellow might as well be walking as sitting around on that platform. I can do nine miles in two hours, I guess.”
“Two hours! Oh, jimminy!” Jimmy looked longingly back at the shaded platform.
“What do you say?” demanded Dud. “Coming along?”
“I suppose so,” said Jimmy in a weak voice. “I don’t see what good it is, but—all right, Dud, I’ll have a try at it. Nine miles! Gee!”
“Come on then,” said Dud. “Let’s hike.”
CHAPTER XXVI
THE BORROWED HAND-CAR
It was hot and the walking was hard. They took to the path between the tracks, but even that was far from being an ideal surface. Now and then a sleeper, longer than the rest, protruded to trip unwary feet and for long stretches at a time they walked over ballast. When they had been on their way only a few minutes a locomotive whistle sounded in the distance behind them and Jimmy was for turning back. It might be, he thought, a train to Greenbank. But Dud destroyed his hope.
“It’s that branch line train,” he said. “The one we didn’t wait for.”