.

"Oh," said Peter, in awestruck tones, "isn't it exactly like when coals
come in?--if there wasn't any roof to the cellar and you could see
down."

"Look what a great mound it's made!" said Bobbie.

"Yes," said Peter, slowly. 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. We've waved so often
before. Anyway, let's get down."

They got down the steep stairs. Bobbie was pale and shivering. Peter's
face looked thinner than usual. Phyllis was red-faced and damp with
anxiety.

"Oh, how hot I am!" she said; "and I thought it was going to be cold; I
wish we hadn't put on our--" she stopped short, and then ended in quite
a different tone--"our flannel petticoats."

Bobbie turned at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, yes," she cried; "THEY'RE red! Let's take them off."

They did, and with the petticoats rolled up under their arms, ran along
the railway, skirting the newly fallen mound of stones and rock and
earth, and bent, crushed, twisted trees. They ran at their best pace.
Peter led, but the girls were not far behind. They reached the corner
that hid the mound from the straight line of railway that ran half a
mile without curve or corner.

"Now," said Peter, taking hold of the largest flannel petticoat.

"You're not"-