locomotive exhaust was not the only sound he heard. The two mules
hitched to the timber wagon--the only wagon standing by the store--
jingled their harness as they shook their heads. One bit at the
other, and his mate squealed and stamped. They were young mules and
full of "ginger"; yet their driver had carelessly left them standing
unhitched in the road.

Fred gave another glance at Ruth and kept on running. The engineer
suddenly whistled for the return of the flagman. But none of the
train-hands--nor did the party in the private car--notice the boy and
girl who had so incautiously left the train.

"Come back!" commanded Ruth, so much interested in following Fred
that she did not notice the lantern of the rear brakeman bobbing
along beside the ties. In a moment he swung himself aboard the
private car and his lantern described half an arc in the dusk. The
engine answered with a loud cough and the heavy train began to move.

But at that moment Fred Hatfield, grown desperate because of Ruth's
pursuit, leaped aboard the timber wagon. He was a backwoods boy
himself; he knew how to handle mules. He gave a shout to which the
team responded instantly. They leaped ahead just as Ruth came to the
side of the long reach that connected the small pair of front wheels
with the huge wheels in the rear.

"Get off of that wagon, Fred!" she had just cried, when the mules
started. She was directly in front of the large rear wheel. If it
struck her--knocked her down--ran over her! Fred knew that she would
be killed and he seized her hands and dragged her up beside him on
the jouncing timber-reach.