The Rover Boys Down East: or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune. Stratemeyer Edward. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Stratemeyer Edward
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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 broke out on their faces.

      “Go ahead!” cried the conductor, and then he saw the trouble and ran forward to watch proceedings.

      From the antics of the horse in front of the locomotive, the Rover boys turned their attention to the carriage that was approaching. As it came closer they saw Dora and Nellie waving their hands frantically.

      “Wait! Wait for us!” cried out Dora, and as the carriage came to a stop she leaped out, followed by Nellie and the other girl students.

      “Just in time!” sang out Dick, loudly. “Come on, here is our car!”

      “Oh, what made you so late?” asked Grace. “We have been worried to death about you.”

      “One of the girls forgot her pocketbook and we had to drive back for it,” explained Nellie. “Oh, we thought sure we would miss the train, when we saw it stop. We were so far off.”

      “I’ll explain why you caught it later on,” whispered Dick. “Now excuse me a moment,” and he ran towards the locomotive.

      A crowd had commenced to collect, and several folks were offering Mr. Sanderson advice. But though he seemed to try his best, his horse and wagon remained in front of the train.

      “Here, let me aid you, Mr. Sanderson,” cried Dick, and gave the farmer the wink. “It’s all right,” he added, in a whisper. “I’m your friend for life after this.”

      “Glad to be of service,” answered the old farmer, in an equally low tone. “G’lang, Franky!” he roared suddenly, and touched the horse with his whip. At once the animal turned partly around and ran off the tracks and down the country road as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

      “Confound that fool nag!” muttered the conductor of the train, as he consulted his watch. “Here we’ve lost six minutes more. Tom, can you make it up?”

      “I can try,” answered the engineer.

      “All right! Let her go!” And Dick and the other passengers who had gone forward hopped on the train in a hurry, and the conductor followed. The train official did not suspect that the “blockading” had been done purposely, and Dick did not enlighten him.

      The Rovers had secured seats for the girls and themselves in one of the parlor cars, and all were together. As the train rolled onward Dick related the particulars of the trick that had been played with the aid of Mr. Sanderson.

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