"It's a through train from Montauk," he said; "they make all the speed they can."
"Two minutes," cried Jess, suddenly; "we won't do it."
But Peggy had suddenly swung off the tracks and was cutting across country. She had seen that the track took a long curve just before it entered the junction. By taking a direct "crow flight" across country she might beat it after all.
And she did. As the train came thundering into the station and stopped with a mighty screaming of brakes and hiss of escaping steam, the aeroplane came to earth in the flat park-like space in front of the depot.
"Tumble out quick!" shouted Roy, "she only stops a jiffy."
"Good-bye, you darlings!" cried Jess, as she sped after her brother toward the station.
"We'll get our tickets on the train!" shouted Jimsy, as they vanished.
The conductor's voice ran peremptorily out. He had seen the race between the aeroplane and the train, but even that could not disturb a conductor's desire to start on time.
As the wheels began to revolve, Jimsy and Jess swung on to the steps of the rear parlor car. As they did so the passengers broke into an involuntary cheer. The shouts of approval at the up to date manner in which the young folks had "made their train," mingled with the puffing of the locomotive as it sped off.
Among the spectators of the sensational feat had been a broad-shouldered, bronzed man in a big sombrero hat, who sat in the same parlor car which Jimsy and Jess had entered. He looked like a Westerner. As the train gathered headway he suddenly, after an interval of deep thought, struck one big brawny hand upon his knee and exclaimed to himself:
"It's the very thing--the very thing. With a fleet of those I could develop the Jupiter and astonish the mining world."
He rose, with the slowness of a powerful man, and made his way back to where Jimsy and Jess were sitting. Raising his broad-brimmed hat with old-fashioned courtesy, he addressed himself to Jimsy and was soon deep in conversation with him.
In the meanwhile, the exciting race against time had resulted in overheating the Golden Butterfly's cylinders, and a stop of an hour or more at the junction was necessary. Thus it was quite dark when the young Prescotts were ready to make for home. A small crowd had gathered to see them start, for there was a little community of houses scattered about the junction.