ve like mad! When it gets to that
big furze bush step back, but go on waving! Don't stand ON the line,
Bobbie!"

The train came rattling along very, very fast.

"They don't see us! They won't see us! It's all no good!" cried Bobbie.

The two little flags on the line swayed as the nearing train shook and
loosened the heaps of loose stones that held them up. One of them slowly
leaned over and fell on the line. Bobbie jumped forward and caught it
up, and waved it; her hands did not tremble now.

It seemed that the train came on as fast as ever. It was very near now.

"Keep off the line, you silly cuckoo!" said Peter, fiercely.

"It's no good," Bobbie said again.

"Stand back!" cried Peter, suddenly, and he dragged Phyllis back by the
arm.

But Bobbie cried, "Not yet, not yet!" and waved her two flags right over
the line. The front of the engine looked black and enormous. It's voice
was loud and harsh.

"Oh, stop, stop, stop!" cried Bobbie. No one heard her. At least Peter
and Phyllis didn't, for the oncoming rush of the train covered the sound
of her voice with a mountain of sound. But afterwards she used to wonder
whether the engine itself had not heard her. It seemed almost as though
it had--for it slackened swiftly, slackened and stopped, not twenty
yards from the place where Bobbie's two flags waved over the line. She
saw the great black engine stop dead, but somehow she could not stop
waving the flags. And when the driver and the fireman had got off the
engine and Peter and Phyllis had gone to meet them and pour out their
excited tale of the awful mound just round the corner, Bobbie still
waved the flags but more and more feebly and jerkily.

When the others turned towards her she was lying across the line with
her hands flung forward and still gripping the sticks of the little red
flannel flags.

The engine-driver picked her up, carried her to the train, and laid her
on the cushions of a first-class carriage.

"Gone right off in a faint," he said, "poor little woman. And no wonder.
I'll just 'ave a look at this 'ere mound of yours, and then we'll run
you back to the station and get her seen to."

It was horrible to see Bobbie lying so white and quiet, with her lips
blue, and parted.

"I believe that's what people look like when they're dead," whispered
Phyllis.

"DON'T!" said Peter, sharply.

They sat by Bobbie on the blue cushions, and the train ran back. Before
it reached their station Bobbie h