"Bessie said you'd have a way to beat Silas Weeks, and, great Godfrey, you sure have!" he said. "I never thought of that--but you're right. Get her out of the state, and there ain't no way under heaven that Silas can get hold of the girl unless she comes back of her own accord. Court writs don't run beyond state lines, not unless they're in the Federal court. Godfrey, but you're smart all right, young lady!" "Thank you," said Eleanor, smiling at him in return for the compliment. "You're sure you understand, Bessie? Here's the money for your fare. You won't have time to buy tickets, so just give the money to the conductor." Then she dropped from the wagon to the road and Paw Hoover whipped up his horses. "You sleep, if you can, Bessie," he said. "I'll wake you up when it's time to get down." And Bessie, her mind relieved, was glad to obey. It seemed to her that she had only just gone to sleep when Paw Hoover shook her gently to arouse her. "Here we are," he said. "Station's just over there--see, beyond the bend. Remember what Miss Mercer told you, now, and good luck, Bessie! I reckon we'll see you again sometime." There were tears in Bessie's eyes as she said good-bye. She watched him drive off, and then she and Zara sat down to wait for the coming of the train. They sat on the grass, behind a cabin that had been abandoned, where they could see the track while they themselves were hidden from anyone approaching by the road they had come. And before long the rails began to hum. Then, in the distance, there was the shriek of a whistle. "Come on, Zara," cried Bessie, and they ran toward the station, just as the train came into sight, its brakes grinding as it slowed down. And then, as they climbed aboard, there was the sudden sound of galloping hoofs, and of hoarse shouting. Farmer Weeks, in his buggy, raced toward the train, his hands lifted as he called wildly to the conductor to stop. CHAPTER X OUT OF THE WOODS The train only stopped for a moment at the little station. Seldom, indeed, did it take on any passengers. And on that trip it was already late. Even as the two girls climbed up the steps the brakeman gave his signal, the conductor flung out his hand, and the wheels began to move. And Farmer Weeks, jumping out of his buggy, raced after it, yelling, but in vain. Swiftly the heavy cars gathered speed. And Bessie and Zara, frightened by their narrow escape, were still too delighted by the way in which Farmer Weeks had been baffled to worry. They felt that they were safe now. "I suppose that old hick thought we'd stop the train for him," they heard the conductor say to the brakeman. "Well, he had another guess coming! Look at him, will you?" "He's mad all through!" said the brakeman, laughing, "Well, he had a right to be there when the train got in. If we waited for every farmer that gets to the station late, we'd be laid off in a hurry, I'll bet."