“Goodness, they’ll know where to go just as well as we did,” said Billie, regarding herself sideways in the mirror to be sure she had not forgotten anything.  “They aren’t infants, you know.”

“Here it comes!  Here it comes!” sang out Laura from her place at the window.  “Are you ready, girls?”

The answer was a concerted rush for the stairs and in another minute the girls were out in the bright sunlight, running to meet the stage.

The driver, who had been nodding in his seat, looked up as if surprised at so much energy so early in the morning.

“Oh, please hurry,” cried Billie, exasperated at the stupid look on the boy’s face.  “Don’t you know that we’re late already?”

“No’m, you’re not late,” he assured her in a voice that matched his manner.  “The ten-thirty train’s always ’bout half an hour late, anyways.”

“Well, that’s just the reason it will probably be on time this morning,” remarked Billie, scrambling in after the girls.  “When I’m late the trains are always early.  Please hurry,” she added, and the driver clucked half-heartedly to his team.

All the way down they worried for fear they would be late, but when they reached Roland at last they found that their rural driver knew the habits of trains in that part of the country better than they did, for they had a full thirty-five minutes to wait.

However, they roused from their despondent attitudes when they heard a familiar whistle in the distance, and began automatically to straighten their hats.

“Suppose they made up their minds not to come on this train?” Violet suggested, but Laura cut in hastily.

“If you’re going to start worrying all over again about something different,” she said, “I’ll put you on the track and let the train run over you.”

At this dire threat Violet stopped worrying, vocally at least, and they stood first on one foot, then on the other, eagerly watching the train as it rounded a curve and came pounding down toward them.

It had hardly drawn up to the station with a screeching of brakes and come to a standstill before a cyclonic trio of boys leaped from one of the rear cars and came dashing toward the girls, waving hats and bags and various other personal articles high in the air as they came.

“I say, but it was bully of you girls to come to meet us!” shouted Ferd Stowing, as they came within hailing distance.  “It was more than we expected, eh, fellows?”

“Sure!  Didn’t think you’d be up yet,” answered Teddy, looking exceedingly handsome—­at least to Billie.

“Up yet!” cried Billie, trying to look angry, which she could not do because she was altogether too happy and excited.  “I don’t know where you boys get your ideas, anyway.”

“Out of our brilliant craniums,” said Ferd modestly.  “I say, girls, where do we go from here?”

“There’s an old carriage that looks as if it were on its last legs,” laughed Violet, leading the way back to where the antiquated vehicle and its sleepy driver awaited them.  “We came up in it, but I don’t know how we’re all going to squeeze into it going back.”