If we had been going fast, great
damage might have been done. As it was, our engine was smashed so badly
that it could not take us on; the passengers were frightened; and we
were having a tedious time waiting for another engine to come and take
us to Riverdale.
After the accident, the trainmen were so busy that Miss Laura could get
no one to release me.
While I sat by her, I noticed an old gentleman staring at us. He was
such a queer-looking old gentleman. He looked like a poodle. He had
bright brown eyes, and a pointed face, and a shock of white hair that he
shook every few minutes. He sat with his hands clasped on the top of his
cane, and he scarcely took his eyes from Miss Laura's face. Suddenly he
jumped up and came and sat down beside her.
"An ugly dog, that," he said, pointing to me.
Most young ladies would have resented this, but Miss Laura only looked
amused. "He seems beautiful to me," she said, gently.
"H'm, because he's your dog," said the old man, darting a sharp look at
me. "What's the matter with him?"
"This is his first journey by rail, and he's a little frightened."
"No wonder.
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