“What’s that, a fog-horn?” cried Ted, rousing suddenly from his sleep at a series of staccato toots.
“We’re not on the Admiral now, stupid! I should think you would know that from the bed,” returned his brother.
“Then what was it I heard?”
Before Phil could express an opinion, there came a timid knocking at their door, and Jennie called:
“Breakfast is ready and Steve is waiting for you on the engine.”
“That is your fog-horn,” Phil flashed at his brother; then asked: “Why didn’t you call us before?”
“I did, sir, twice.”
“Guess this bed isn’t so hard, after all,” commented Ted.
“Are you up now, Mr. Porters?” inquired the girl.
“We are,” chorused the boys, and in quick order they descended to the kitchen, ate their breakfasts, and boarded the engine.