"We've got half an hour to make the twenty miles," shouted Roy, from his seat beside his sister. Peggy set her little white even teeth and nodded.
"I'm going to make for the tracks and follow them. That's the quickest way," she said.
It seemed only a few seconds later that the red and green lights of a semaphore signal flashed up below them.
Swinging the aeroplane about, Peggy began flying directly above the tracks.
"No sign of the train yet--we may make it," said Jimsy, pulling out his watch. It showed a quarter to six, and they had fifteen miles to travel, or so Roy estimated the distance.
"Let her out for a mile-a-minute," he exclaimed.
Peggy only nodded. She was far too busy getting all the work she could out of the motor. An extra passenger makes a lot of difference to an aeroplane, and the Butterfly was only built to accommodate three. But she was answering gallantly to the strain.
On she flew above the tracks, every now and then roaring above some astonished crossing keeper or track-walker.
Suddenly, from somewhere behind them, they heard a long, moaning whistle.
In her excitement she gripped Roy's arm tightly and peered back.
All at once, around a curve, the locomotive came into view--black smoke spouting from its funnel and a column of white steam pouring from its safety valves.
"She'll beat us," cried Jimsy, despairingly, as the thunder of the speeding train grew louder. The setting sun flashed on the varnished sides of the cars.
The engineer thrust his head out of the cab window and gazed upward. His attention had been attracted by the roaring of the motor overhead.
He broke into a yell and waved his hand as he saw the flying aeroplane dashing along above him. The next instant his hand sought the whistle cord.
The occupants of the aeroplane waved their hands. To their chagrin, however, they saw that, overloaded as the aeroplane was, the train was gaining on them in leaps and bounds. Its windows were black with heads now as passengers, regardless of the danger of encountering some trackside obstacle, leaned out and gazed up at the Golden Butterfly roaring along like some great Thunder Lizard of the dark ages.
"Don't they stop anywhere between here and the junction?" gasped Jimsy.