Tom spoke to the conductor a moment before following the others
to seats.
"You see," spoke Reade, "I'm even going to the trouble to make
sure that this is the right train, and not a belated express."
"I never though of that," muttered Darrin, turning a bit pale.
"Great Scott!" gasped Dick. "I can feel the cold sweat oozing
out at the bare thought. Suppose we had been harebrained enough
to get on the wrong train, and be carried so far past that we
couldn't get back to Wilburville by nine o'clock!"
"Drop all worry. Don't think of anything alarming, or even disconcerting,"
chuckled Tom. "I've taken charge of the whole job, and I guarantee
everything. One of the little things I guarantee is that you'll
both win out to-day."
"In algebra," muttered Darrin, "I hope they won't go too deeply
into quadratic equations-----"
"Cut it!" ordered Reade severely. "Likewise forget it! Say,
I heard a rattling good story last night. It carries a Dutchman,
a poodle, a dude and an old maid. Let me see if I can remember
just how it runs."
With that Reade got started. He soon had his two friends started
as well. They laughed until the brakeman at last thrust his head
in and called:
"Next station, Wilburville!"
"Stop and get out, young man!" called Tom. "Do you think we don't
know our way?"
Then into another story plunged Tom Reade. He spun it out, purposely,
until the train slowed up at Wilburville.
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