The twins couldn't help smiling at the idea of going anywhere without
their magic buttons. They boarded the crowded street car with Sure Pop
and stood beside the motorman all the way to the railroad yards. It
seemed as if somebody tried to get run over every block or two, and the
way people crossed the crowded streets in the middle of blocks was
enough to turn a motorman's hair gray.

"How'd you like to be the motorman, Bob?"

"Well, I tell _you_, Sure Pop, I don't believe it's as much fun as it
looks from the outside. If fellows like Chance and George would ride
beside the motorman for just one day, seeing what he has to see right
along, they'd be Safety workers forever after. Look at that, now! Those
chaps have no business to cross in the middle of the block."

"Nobody has," agreed Sure Pop, with a keen glance at Bob. The boy
flushed as he remembered what he himself had been doing when he first
felt the warning touch of the Safety Scout's hand.

He and Betty noticed, too, how carefully Sure Pop looked all around him
before leaving the car, and they did likewise. Two short blocks more and
they were in sight of the railroad roundhouse. The Safety Scout stuck
his head inside the great doorway and peered around at the smoking
engines that impatiently awaited their turn. "There she is!" he
exclaimed. "There's old Seven-Double-Seven!" And he waved his hand at
the engineer up in the cab.

The three climbed into the engine cab, where the fireman stood waiting
with his eye on the steam gauge. From the way the engineer shook hands
with Sure Pop, the twins decided they must be old friends.

"Got my orders?" asked the engineer. He ripped open the envelope Sure
Pop handed him, glanced at the message, nodded to the fireman, and
gently pulled open the throttle. The big, powerful engine answered his
touch like a race horse. With a warning clang of the bell, they slipped
down the shining track, through the crowded yards, and toward the city
limits.

"Bob, what are you looking for?" asked Sure Pop.

Bob went on looking in all the corners of the cab as if greatly puzzled.
"Looking for the moving picture machine," he said with a grin. "I
thought I heard you promise us a moving picture show."

"You just wait. Be ready to rub your magic buttons when I say the word,
both of you, and you'll see some moving pictures you'll never
forget--pictures of what _might_ happen to boys and girls like
yourselves. The pity of it is, it does