ery stretching out comfortably
with her hands supporting her head. "I'm no circus performer."

Hazel uttered a little exclamation.

"Look Margery! Look!" she cried.

"Well, what is it? I don't see anything," replied Margery petulantly,
raising herself on one elbow, gazing listlessly down into the valley where
the village lay baking under the hot June sun.

"It's a special," cried Hazel. "See, the cars are orange colored. Aren't
they pretty? I never saw anything more attractive."

Margery turned up her nose disdainfully.

"I don't see anything about a railroad train to get excited over," she
answered, lying back in the shade of the maple tree, beneath which the
girls had been resting for the past hour or so.

That the special train rushing down the valley, would make no stop at
Meadow-Brook, Hazel could plainly see. Trains that were to stop there
always slowed down before reaching the second crossing west of the
village. This one had not done so. No sooner had Hazel observed this than
she caught sight of something else, something that set her nerves all a
tingle. A huge cloud of dust was rolling down the highway near the
railroad tracks. That this cloud was not caused by the train was plain to
the watching girl. Soon she was able to make out the outlines of an
automobile in the cloud of dust. The train was but a short distance away.
Each was making for the crossing, where the highway and railroad tracks
met. Hazel did not believe the driver of the motor car was aware that the
train was so close, even if the driver knew of its presence at all, for no
train was due to pass through Meadow-Brook at that hour.

The color suddenly left Hazel Holland's face.

"Quick! Quick! Look!" she gasped.

"It's too hot to keep bobbing up and down," returned Margery
indifferently.

"But look! Look!"

"Tell me about it, Hazel, dear. You do not have to get up to see. I do."

"Oh? Buster, there's going to be a collision."

"Eh? What?" Buster was on her feet instantly.

"The train is going to hit the automobile!"

Margery's face paled. Her breath came more quickly. Her eyes grew large
and wondering. The power of speech seemed suddenly to have left her. They
had forgotten all about Grace Thompson in the greater interest of the
moment. Margery shivered with apprehension while beads of perspiration
stood out on her forehead. She was staring in terror at the onrushing car.

"Oh!" she shuddered. "There'll surely be a collision."