Belle Tingley’s two brothers were not too old to be companions for Tom, Bob, and Isadore Phelps.  And they were all as eager for fun and prank-playing as they could be.

Mrs. Tingley had already retired and most of the girls were in their dressing gowns when the boys arrived.  The porter was making up the boys’ berths as the latter tramped in, bringing on their clothing the first flakes of the storm that had been threatening all the evening.

“Let the porter brush you, little boy,” urged Madge, peering out between the curtains of her section and admonishing her big brother.  “If you get cold and catch the croup I don’t know what sister will do!  Now, be a good child!”

“Huh!” grunted Isadore Phelps, trying to collect enough of the snow to make a ball to throw at her.  “I wonder at you, Bobbins.  Why don’t you make her behave?  Treatin’ you like an over-grown kid.”

“I’d never treat you that way, Master Isadore,” said Madge, sweetly.  “For you very well know that you’re not grown at all!”

At that Isadore did gather snow—­by running out for it.  He brought back a dozen snowballs and the first thing the girls knew the missiles were dropping over the top of the curtains into the sheltered spaces devoted to the berths.

There was a great squealing then, for some of the victims were quite ready for bed, and the snow was cold and wet.  Mrs. Tingley interfered little with the pranks of the young folk, and Izzy was careful not to throw any snow into her compartment.

But the tease did not know when to stop.  He was usually that way—­as Madge said, Izzy would drive a willing horse to death.

It was Heavy and Ann, however, who paid him back in some of his own coin.

The boys finally made their preparations for bed.  Izzy paraded the length of the car in his big robe and bed slippers, for a drink of ice water.

Before he could return, Heavy and Ann bounced out in their woolen kimonas and seized him.  By this time the train had come in, the engine had switched to the siding, picked up their sleeper, and was now backing down to couple on to the train again.

The two girls ran Izzy out into the vestibule, Heavy’s hand over his mouth so that he could not shout to his friends for help.  The door of the vestibule on the off side was unlocked.  Ann pushed it open.

The snow was falling heavily—­it was impossible to see even the fence that bounded the railroad line on this side.  The cars came together with a slight shock and the three were thrown into a giggling, struggling heap on the platform.

“Lemme go!” gasped Izzy.

“Sure we will!” giggled Heavy, and with a final push she sent him flying down the steps.  Then she shut the door.

She did not know that every other door on that side of the long train was locked.  Almost immediately the train began to move forward.  It swept away from the Lumberton platform, and it was fully a minute before Heavy and Ann realized what they had done.