“Mother,” said Dabney, as they drove along, “you wouldn’t let ’em have Ham’s house, would you?”

“No, indeed.  But I don’t mean to have our own stand empty.”

With that reply a great deal of light broke in upon Dab’s mind.

“That’s it, is it?” he said to himself, as he touched up the ponies.  “Well, there’ll be room enough for all of us there, and no mistake.  But what’ll Ham say?”

That was a question which he could safely leave to the very responsible lady beside him; and she found “errands” enough for him, during the remainder of that forenoon, to keep him from worrying his mind about any thing else.

As for Ford Foster, it was not until late on the following day that he completed all his “inquiries” to his satisfaction.  He took the afternoon train for the city, almost convinced that, much as he undoubtedly knew before he came, he had actually acquired a good deal more knowledge which might be of some value.

Ford was almost the only passenger in the car he had selected.  Trains going towards the city were apt to be thinly peopled at that time of day; but the empty cars had to be taken along all the same, for the benefit of the crowds who would be coming out later in the afternoon and in the evening.  The railway-company would have made more money with full loads both ways, but it was well they did not have a full load on that precise train.

Ford had turned over the seat in front of him, and stretched himself out with his feet on it.  It was almost like lying down, for a boy of his length; and it was the very best position he could possibly have taken if he had known what was coming.

Known what was coming?

Yes:  there was a pig coming.

That was all; but it was quite enough, considering what that pig was about to do.  He was going where he chose, just then; and not only had he chosen to walk upon the railroad-track, but he had also made up his mind not to turn out for that locomotive and its train of cars.

He saw it, of course, for he was looking straight at it; and the engineer saw him, but it would have been well for the pig if he had been discovered a few seconds earlier.

“What a whistle!” exclaimed Ford Foster at that moment.  “It sounds more like the squeal of an iron pig than any thing else.  I”—­

But at that instant there came to him a great jolt and a shock; and Ford found himself tumbled all in a heap, on the seat where his feet had been.  Then came bounce after bounce, and the sound of breaking glass, and then a crash.

“Off the track,” shouted Ford, as he sprang to his feet.  “I wouldn’t have missed it for any thing.  I do hope, though, there hasn’t anybody been killed.”

In the tremendous excitement of the moment he could hardly have told how he got out of that car; but it did not seem ten seconds before he was standing beside the engineer and conductor of the train, looking at the battered engine, as it lay upon its side in a deep ditch.  The baggage-car, just behind it, was broken all to pieces, but the passenger-cars did not seem to have suffered very much; and nobody was badly hurt, as the engineer and fireman had jumped off in time.