The train came thundering down the track, and he jumped across in front of the locomotive.
Betty watched until she saw the mail-bag tossed aboard, and then gave a deep sigh of thankfulness.

"Well," she exclaimed to Lad, in a relieved tone, "that's done! We're too late for the charades, but maybe we'll get back to the mill in time for the cake-walk." It would have been quite dark by the time she reached the cross-roads again, if it had not been that the moon was beginning to rise, and cast a faint whiteness over the dusky fields.

She could not remember which way to turn.

The first time she passed that way she had paid no attention to direction, but had followed heedlessly after Lloyd.

The second time the pony had shot by so fast that she had had no time to consider.