He was still leaning on the fence.

"Yes," he said again, still more slowly.
Then he stood upright.
"The 11.29 down hasn't gone by yet.

We must let them know at the station, or there'll be a most frightful accident." "Let's run," said Bobbie, and began.
But Peter cried, "Come back!" and looked at Mother's watch.

He was very prompt and businesslike, and his face looked whiter than they had ever seen it.
"No time," he said; "it's two miles away, and it's past eleven." "Couldn't we," suggested Phyllis, breathlessly, "couldn't we climb up a telegraph post and do something to the wires ?" "We don't know how," said Peter.
"They do it in war," said Phyllis; "I know I've heard of it." "They only CUT them, silly," said Peter, "and that doesn't do any good.
And we couldn't cut them even if we got up, and we couldn't get up.

If we had anything red, we could get down on the line and wave it." "But the train wouldn't see us till it got round the corner, and then it could see the mound just as well as us," said Phyllis; "better, because it's much bigger than us." "If we only had something red," Peter repeated, "we could go round the corner and wave to the train." "We might wave, anyway." "They'd only think it was just US, as usual.