“Nonsense!” laughed Billy. “I’m all right.”
As if to prove this assertion, he began a wrestling match with Carlo, who had come frisking up to him. But this sport was interrupted by the departure of the engineer.
“Well, I must be getting up steam again,” said the man. “Good-by, all!”
After shaking hands all around, he walked rapidly back to his engine, and soon the big freight was on its way again, the various trainmen waving their hands in farewell.
“I must be on my way, too,” the girl said, breaking an awkward little pause which followed the last echo of the vanishing train. “I was going over to Santario, to see my father. He is the keeper of the Life Saving Station at Red Key,” she explained. “His name is Anderson,—Peter Anderson. Mine is Ruth.”
“We’re Boy Scouts,” replied Alec, feeling that some introduction was due. “This chap is William Worth,—we call him Billy, for short,—this is Chester Brownell, and I’m Alec Sands. We are on our way to Santario, too; we left our machine over yonder. If you like, we’ll be glad to give you a ride. Will you come? It’s getting late, the sun’s going down, and you’ll never walk all the way to Santario before dusk. Better come with us.”
His suggestion was offered in frank kindness and Ruth Anderson was quick to appreciate it.
“It’s very good of you to invite me,” she said. “Thank you very much! I’d love a ride. You see, I’ve never been in an automobile. I’ve been in a lifeboat, though; but that’s not exciting,—unless there’s a storm!”
“That’s something we’ve never done—gone out in a lifeboat,” Chester remarked. “I visited a station on the coast of Maine two summers ago, but I didn’t see the crew at work.”
“I’ve never even seen a Life Saving Station,” said Billy.