“Oh, Harry! do you think they see us?” she cried.
“See us! why, they can't help seeing us, goosie.” Harry called Nan by this name more often than by any other. He did not mean it unkindly, and Nan did not mind.
“They are slowing up,” cried Harry, jubilantly.
“They are slowing up,” Nan repeated, in the vain hope that Rex might hear her. The next moment the train came to a standstill, and Nan dropped in a limp heap to the ground, for, trembling with excitement, her little limbs, stout though they were, refused longer to support her.
“Well, children, what's up?” shouted the engineer, from the cab of the locomotive. “I hope you ain't stopped the train for the fun of the thing.”
“Well, I guess not,” cried Harry, indignantly. “There's a dead cow on the track just round the curve; we were afraid she might throw your train off.”
“Good for you,” answered the man, “you may have saved us an ugly accident. Come, Joe,” he called to the fireman, as he jumped from his engine. “Now show us where she is, Johnnie.”
“My name's Harry,” suggested that small gentleman, not caring to be addressed by the general title of Johnnie.
“Well, then, Master Harry, lead the way.” Nan stayed where she was. The excitement of the last few moments had robbed her of all strength; besides, she did not exactly want to see them drag that poor cow from the track. And now the people in the train began to crane their necks from the car windows to ascertain what might be the' cause of the delay. A few men had gotten out and had gone ahead to investigate.