"He'll never do it!" groaned the pilot. Then he held his breath, for
three or four hundred yards behind the captain Mrs. Pepper pounded in
pursuit.
The train rolled into the station; passengers stepped in and out; doors
slammed, and the guard had already placed the whistle in his mouth, when
Captain Crippen, breathing stentorously, came stumbling blindly on to
the platform, and was hustled into a third class carriage.
"Close shave that, sir," said the station-master as he closed the door.
The captain sank back in his seat, fighting for breath, and turning his
head, gave a last triumphant look up the road.
"All right, sir," said the station-master kindly, as he followed the
direction of the other's eyes and caught sight of Mrs. Pepper. "We'll
wait for your lady."
* * * * *
Jackson Pepper came from behind the coal-truck and watched the train out
of sight, wondering in a dull, vague fashion what the conversation was
like. He stood so long that a tender hearted porter, who had heard the
news, made bold to come up and put a friendly hand on his shoulder.
"You'll never see her again, Mr. Pepper," he said sympathetically.
The ex-pilot turned and regarded him fixedly, and the last bit of spirit
he was ever known to show flashed up in his face as he spoke.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233