"Smaller! Why, they are simply _poverty_-stricken in looks!" exclaimed
Barbara in disgust.
The nearer the train came to Oak Creek, the smaller and rougher the
houses seemed, until the guard called out:
"Oak Crick! Here's your station!"
The girls gazed at each other in consternation, for the place was
little more than a rough mining settlement, or ranch-town.
The brakeman caught up the leather bags and jumped from the slowing
train. He planked them down regardless of contents, and ran off to the
station. It was an old discarded box-car shoved on a siding to do duty
as ticket-office and freight station.
The girls hurried out to the car platform and Barbara asked: "Nolla,
why don't you call the porter?"
"They never had one on this line!" Then stepping down side-ways from
the high narrow steps of the train, Eleanor cried:
"Gracious! Do catch me if I fall!"
Barbara stared about as a frozen horror slowly crept into her soul and
was expressed in her eyes. "Was _this_ the lovely mountain resort for
which she had planned such conquests?"
Eleanor spied the precious bags too close to the tracks to insure their
safety, so she rushed over to save them from disaster--for who could
tell whether that shaky old train would hold together much longer!
But the Local looked worse than it really was. It was as reliable a set
of old cars as could be found, even if the paint and polish had
vanished with age.
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