“I wish this was my train,” Hugh heard the boy say, as though he had begun to fear the long delay, with that man hovering so close, bent, too, on once more regaining control over his will.
“Never mind, it will come along inside of twenty minutes,” said the scout master. “In the meantime we’ll try to fix him so he can’t bother you. Just keep a stiff upper lip, Cale, and everything is going to come out right.”
“Oh, I hope so, I hope so!” the anxious boy was saying to himself, as he clasped and unclasped his hands.
“Better step inside here, fellows, and let those passengers go by,” suggested Jack Durham at this juncture.
A number of travelers had left the cars, and were making their way as best they could through the crowd, heading in the direction of the station building further along the platform.
The confusion was at its height, with the engine letting off surplus steam with a hissing sound that prevented conversation to a great extent. Hugh, still guarding the rescued Cale, turned to glance at the newcomers. He supposed, of course, that for the most part they would be relatives of the town people, coming to have a look at the County Fair before it closed its gates on Saturday afternoon.
A voice at his elbow startled Hugh; it was Walter crying out excitedly.
“Oh! that must be Uncle Reuben and Aunt Ruth! Why, I’d almost forgotten they were coming on this train. Hold on here! Hugh, stop him, can’t you; he’s trying to break away from us! Here, Cale, what ails you?”
CHAPTER XIII.
HOW IT TURNED OUT.
As he turned at hearing this outburst from Walter, Hugh saw something that surprised him very much. Cale was no longer standing there with bowed head, trying to keep his eyes away from the burning gaze of the fakir. He was staring in the direction of the oncoming passengers who had just left the standing train, staring as though he could hardly believe his eyes.