Brace up; be a man!" he called back
encouragingly.
"There are too many men as it is," she wailed, sinking back into the
tonneau.
"Here we are!" he shouted, as the car whizzed into a murky, dimly
lighted street on the edge of Fenlock, the county seat. "There are the
station lights just ahead."
"Is the train in?" she cried, struggling to her feet eagerly.
"I think not." He was slowing down. A moment later the throbbing car
came to a stop beside the railway station platform. The lights blinked
feebly through the mist; far off in the night arose the faint toot of
a locomotive's whistle.
"We're just in time," he cried. "She's coming. Quick!" He lifted her
bodily over the side of the car, jerked two suitcases from beneath the
curtains, and rushed frantically to the shelter of the platform sheds.
"I'll leave you here, dear," he was saying rapidly. "Wait a second;
there is your railroad ticket and your drawing-room ticket, too. I'll
wake Derby when I get on board. I have to run the automobile down to
Henry's garage first. Won't take ten seconds. Don't worry. The train
won't be here for three or four minutes.
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