Part 22 (1/2)
It was getting dark when Freda came out at the side porch and looked anxiously down the road.
”Mother should have come on that train,” she told herself. Then she waited to hear the train pa.s.s at the second crossing. ”She would be on her way up now if she came,” Freda reflected, ”I'll get my things on and go to meet her.”
Coming down the stairs she called Cora, but receiving no reply she did not wait to find her. She expected to be gone only a few minutes and it was not worth while to wait to tell Cora where she was going.
The dusk came down quickly. Even as Freda pa.s.sed under the big elm tree she could not see the moss at its trunk.
She hastened on, and was almost startled into a scream as she heard a noise. It was but the tinkle of a bell.
”Someone on a bicycle!” exclaimed Freda, in relief.
The bell tinkled again, and through an opening in the trees she caught a glimpse of the messenger boy from the railroad station. He saw her and called:
”A message for you!”
”A message for me?” she repeated in surprise. ”Who can it be from?” At once she thought of her mother.
”I don't know,” answered the lad. ”Mr. Burke, at the station, took it over the telephone, and wrote it out. Here it is,” and he held up an envelope. ”It's all paid, and you don't have to sign the book; it isn't a regular telegram.”
With trembling fingers Freda tore open the envelope. There was a single slip of paper inside and on it was written in the hand of the station agent:
”If you would do your mother a service come to Wickford Junction at once.”
”Wickford Junction!” gasped Freda, as the messenger boy rode away.
”Why, how did mother get there? That's in the opposite direction from Lamberton. Oh, there must have been some accident, and she has been taken there! I must go to her!”
Hastily Freda looked in her purse. She had barely money enough for the ticket, but she would go. On eager and anxious feet she sped toward the railroad depot. It was getting much darker.
”Oh, Mr. Burke!” Freda gasped, when she saw the agent behind his little wicket gate, ”I've got to go to Wickford Junction. Mother is there.”
”She is, Freda? Why I sold her a ticket to Lamberton this morning.”
”I know. But there must have been some accident. I just got a message from Wickford Junction.”
”I know, for I wrote it down. The person wouldn't give any name, but I'm sure it wasn't your mother.”
”No, it couldn't have been! She's hurt!”
”Hurt?”
”Well, of course I'm not sure, but I fear she is. She must have told someone to send it. I've got to go. How much is a ticket?”
”Eighty-five cents. The train's due now. There she comes,” he added, as a distant whistle sounded.
Freda had barely time to get her ticket and hurry aboard.
”Don't worry,” the agent called out to her. ”There hasn't been any accident, or I'd have heard of it.”
But Freda did worry. All the way in the train she was a prey to nervous fears, and when the Junction was finally reached she was hardly able to keep up.