style="font-size:15px;"> The second carriage arrived a minute later. It contained six girls and among them was Grace.
“Dora and Nellie are in the last carriage,” announced the younger Laning girl. “I came on ahead to get the trunks and bags checked.”
“We’ll do that,” answered Sam promptly. “Got the railroad tickets?”
“Yes, here they are,” and Grace handed the tickets over.
It took several minutes to check the baggage, for the agent was busy, and all of the Rovers gave a hand in shifting the heavy trunks out to a place close to the tracks. Then Dick looked at his watch.
“Time for the train now,” he announced. “Wonder why that carriage doesn’t get here?”
“Dick is getting nervous,” said Sam, with a wink.
“Oh, you are all right – with Grace here,” retorted his brother.
Tom had gone up to a bend of the road to take a look. Now he came back with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Nothing but a farm wagon in sight,” he announced. “And the horses are kicking up such a dust I can’t see behind it.”
“Oh, Tom, is it time for the train?” asked Grace, anxiously.
“It’s three minutes past the time,” answered Dick.
“Maybe the train is a good deal late,” said Sam, hopefully. “I’ll ask the agent.”
He went off and in the meantime the others continued to watch the country road leading to the railroad station. All they could see was a cloud of dust that betokened the coming of a big farm wagon, on the front seat of which sat an old farmer.
“The train is coming!” cried Sam in dismay, on returning. “The agent says it will be here in about two minutes.”
“Two minutes!” burst out Dick and Tom.
“Oh, they’ll get left!” moaned Grace. “What shall we do? I can’t go home alone! And I’ve got their tickets!”
“Perhaps the agent will hold the train a bit,” suggested Dick.
“I hear the train now!” cried Sam, as a distant whistle sounded through the air. A moment later they saw the cars, making a broad curve around the distant hills.
Dick ran to the man who sold tickets and looked after the baggage.
“Say, we are waiting for some more passengers – some young ladies from Hope Seminary,” he explained. “Can’t you hold the train till they come?”
“Not much!” was the sharp answer. “The train is late already, and orders are to make as short a stop as possible.”
“They are coming!” yelled Tom. “I see them away down the road!”
“Oh, call to them to hurry!” burst out Grace.
“They can’t hear me,” answered Tom. “They are coming as fast as the team can go.”
“Won’t you hold the train just a couple of minutes?” pleaded Dick.
“No, sir!” And the agent spoke with a positive snap in his voice.
Dick looked across the tracks. The farm wagon had come up, and on the seat he recognized the fat and jolly Mr. Sanderson, the father of the girl they had once saved from the annoyances of Dudd Flockley and Jerry Koswell.
“I’ll get Mr. Sanderson to do the trick for me!” he muttered to himself, and ran to where the farm wagon had come to a halt.
CHAPTER VII
DREAMS OF YOUTH
“Mr. Sanderson!”
“Why, if it ain’t Mr. Rover!” cried the old farmer. “Glad to see ye! Bound fer hum, I suppose?”
“Yes.” Dick stepped close to the old farmer’s side. “Mr. Sanderson do you want to do me a great big favor and do it quick?” he went on, earnestly.
“O’ course. Wot is it?”
“Do you see that train coming?”
“Well, as my eyesight is putty good, I do,” and the old farmer chuckled.
“And do you see that carriage on the road?”
“Yes – it’s one of them turnouts from the gals’ school.”
“Some of our friends are in that carriage and I want to hold that train till they get here,” continued Dick, quickly. “The station agent won’t hold the train for me – so I want you to do it.”
“Me? I ain’t got nuthin’ to do with the railroad.”
“I know that. But you can hold the train, nevertheless. The train will stop just below this crossing – it always does. When it is about ready to start you drive on the track – and then your horse balks, see? You try to start him but he won’t start. You fuss and pull, but the horse don’t budge until those young ladies are on the train.”
“By gum! I’ll do it!” exclaimed the fat farmer, with a twinkle in his eyes. “This hoss is jest the one to balk, too.”
“I can depend on you?”
“You kin, Mr. Rover.”
“Thank you a thousand times!” returned Dick; and then he went off to rejoin his brothers and Grace.
The train had already rolled in and passengers were getting off and on, and the agent was loading on the trunks and handbags.
“Oh, if they would only hurry!” cried Grace.
“You can get aboard,” said Dick. “This train won’t leave just yet.”
“But it is going to go before they get here,” declared Sam. “It’s a shame! Two minutes more would fix it – and they could hold the train as well as not.”
“All aboard!” sang out the conductor, as the last of the baggage disappeared into the baggage car.
Dick looked ahead. Mr. Sanderson’s farm wagon had just started to cross the tracks. He was sawing on the reins and the horse was acting in a strange manner, not knowing what to make of it. He turned part way around and faced the locomotive.
“G’lang!” sang out the old farmer. “Consarn ye! What’s the matter of ye, Franky?”
“Oh, Dick, he’ll be killed!” burst out Sam, in horror.
“Looks as if the horse wanted to climb over the engine,” came from Tom.
“It’s all right,” answered the elder Rover boy in a whisper. “The engineer sees him and won’t start the train. Mr. Sanderson is doing it on purpose.”
“On purpose?” came from Sam and Tom, and then of a sudden they understood, and both had to turn away to hide the grins that
