Part 7 (2/2)
”How silly of me!” she said, shame-facedly. ”One would think I had never heard a locomotive whistle before. But it was so totally unexpected.”
”I should have warned you, but I didn't think. This is Arriba; do you want to go back?”
Gertrude was enjoying herself keenly, after a certain barbaric and unfettered fas.h.i.+on hitherto undreamed of, and she was tempted to drink a little deeper from the cup of freedom before going back to the proprieties. Moreover, there was doubtless a goodly measure of reproof awaiting her, and when she remembered this, she determined to get the full value of the castigation.
”I'll go on, if you'll let me,” she said.
”Let you!” Brockway had been trembling for fear his little bubble of joy was about to burst, and would have multiplied words. But before he could say more, the 926 thundered past the station and came to a stand.
Maclure released the air-brake, and clambering down from his box, dragged the pa.s.senger agent from his seat and so out to the gangway.
”Say, Fred, is she goin' back?” he whispered.
”No, not just yet.”
”Bully for her; she's got sand, she has. Reckon you could run a spell and talk to her at the same time?”
Brockway's nerves tingled at the bare suggestion. ”Try me and see,” he said.
”It's a go,” said Maclure. ”Get her over there on my side, and I'll smoke me a pipe out o' Johnnie's window. Swear to bob I won't look around once!”
IX
FIFTY MILES AN HOUR
”Let me promote you, Miss Vennor,” Brockway said, helping Gertrude to the foot-board; ”Mr. Maclure says you may have his seat for awhile.”
Gertrude acquiesced unquestioningly. For some cause as yet uncla.s.sified, acquiescence seemed to be quite the proper thing when she was with Brockway, though docility with others was not her most remarkable characteristic. When she was safely bestowed, Maclure rang the bell and gave Brockway his instructions.
”Next stop's Red b.u.t.te--twenty-seven miles--thirty-eight minutes o'
card-time--no allowance for slowin' down at Corral Siding. And if you can twist 'em any quicker, do it. Turn her loose.”
The engineer betook himself to the fireman's box, and Brockway's resolution was taken on the spur of the moment.
”Do just as I tell you, Miss Vennor, and I'll give you a brand-new experience,” he said, quickly. ”Take hold of this lever and pull--both hands--pull hard!”
Gertrude did it simply because she was told to, and it was not until the engine lunged forward that she understood what it was she was doing.
”Oh, Mr. Brockway--I can't!” she cried; ”it won't mind me!”
”Yes, it will; I'll show you how. Push it back a little; you mustn't tear your fire. There; let her make a few turns at that.”
Gertrude clung to the throttle as if she were afraid it was alive and would escape, but her eyes sparkled and the flush of excitement mounted swiftly to cheek and brow.
”Now give her a little more--just a notch or two--that's enough. You needn't hold it; it won't run away,” Brockway said, laughing at her.
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