The words “signal somehow” suggested a red flag to Nan, for she knew that was what they used at times of danger, and the thought suggested—well, no matter what, but she disappeared behind a bush, and in a moment re-appeared, waving a veritable little red flag.
“Where did you get it?” cried the boys both at once, and staring at her in blank astonishment.
“It is my flannel skirt,” Nan replied, with cheeks well nigh as scarlet as the skirt itself.
“Good for you, Nan; you're a 'cute one!” and Harry quickly fastened the skirt to the same stick with which he had poked the cow. Then he rushed off, calling, “Come on, Nan; but Rex had better wait here.”
Poor Rex! never had he felt so thoroughly out of patience with that lame leg of his. It seemed so hard not to be able to run with the best of them when there was so much excitement in the wind.
“May I go?” said Nan, appealingly, and as though she dared not stir without permission from his little Royal Highness.
“Of course, child,” said the king, somewhat ungraciously.
Harry hurried along the track, and rounding the curve immediately gained a position, from which he knew the little flag could be seen from quite a distance? He reached the spot none too soon, for by this time the train was in sight. Right away he began waving vigorously. Nan's sun-bonnet was hanging from her neck, and she quickly untied the strings and shook it wildly up and down.
