By and by the rumbling seemed to begin to grow fainter. Uncle Rob cocked his head. "Wind's changing," he said.
Then, suddenly, Bess snickered, and at the same moment came a faint, weak little whistle screech, and Bob and I looked the way she was pointing, and there, clear across the river, half a mile away, was a nice little railroad train, trundling along as innocently as could be!
For one second Bob looked as if he was going to say something to match the expression of his face; and then he caught sight of Uncle Rob, who was standing with his back that way, his feet planted ankle deep in the red clay and both hands on the bit of his horse,—and he grinned, instead.
"Hold hard there," he said,—"there's the train!"
Uncle Rob turned and looked across the river. "H'm," he said, interestedly, "passenger train, isn't it? Two coaches and a mail car. Nice little train."
"Yes," said Bob, "engine's got a smoke-stack, a cow-catcher, and a tender. 'Most as pretty as the boat, isn't it?"
Then we all laughed.
