The old mountain man's eyes flitted to the silent locomotive.
"Ef ye go on the ingyne, I'd like to go wi' ye," he said. "I hain't never—heh!—rid on no train nor nothin' like it."
"All right," nodded Wolfe. "Want to go with us, grammaw?"
"Shore," eagerly; "I hain't never rid on no train neither."
Wolfe helped the two old people to the cab seats, uncoupled the locomotive, sprang aboard and loosed the brakes. They were off for the now deserted camp.
The Masons hadn't seen Tot Singleton since the morning of the day before! Wolfe frowned hard at the tidings. After a few minutes spent in talking with the colonel, he hastened back to the locomotive, which was now trembling under a fair head of steam. He delivered his message to Grandpap Singleton, and reached for the throttle-lever.
"Honey," smiled Granny Wolfe, seeming somehow like a guilty child, "ef you won't git mad at me—I know whar Tot is! As we left the aidge o' the basin, I seed her a-peepin' down at us from the laurels on the Lost Trail side! I know I'd orter told ye, honey; but I hadn't never rid on no train afore, and I—I was jest mighty nigh it a-dyin' to ride!"
"That's all right, grammaw," said her grandson. "I wonder why she didn't go to her father's?"
Neither of his hearers could answer the question. He opened the throttle, and a sharp staccato of exhaust shattered the woodland peace.