Діти залізниці
Saviours of the train.
AtleastPeterandPhyllisdidn’t,fortheoncomingrushofthetraincoveredthesoundofhervoicewithamountainofsound.Butafterwardssheusedtowonderwhethertheengineitselfhadnotheardher.Itseemedalmostasthoughithad—foritslackenedswiftly,slackenedandstopped,nottwentyyardsfromtheplacewhereBobbie’stwoflagswavedovertheline.Shesawthegreatblackenginestopdead,butsomehowshecouldnotstopwavingtheflags.AndwhenthedriverandthefiremanhadgotofftheengineandPeterandPhyllishadgonetomeetthemandpourouttheirexcitedtaleoftheawfulmoundjustroundthecorner,Bobbiestillwavedtheflagsbutmoreandmorefeeblyandjerkily.
Whentheothersturnedtowardshershewaslyingacrossthelinewithherhandsflungforwardandstillgrippingthesticksofthelittleredflannelflags.
Theengine-driverpickedherup,carriedhertothetrain,andlaidheronthecushionsofafirst-classcarriage.
"Gonerightoffinafaint,"hesaid,"poorlittlewoman.Andnowonder.I’lljust‘avealookatthis’eremoundofyours,andthenwe’llrunyoubacktothestationandgetherseento."
ItwashorribletoseeBobbielyingsowhiteandquiet,withherlipsblue,andparted.
"Ibelievethat’swhatpeoplelooklikewhenthey’redead,"whisperedPhyllis.
"DON’T!"saidPeter,sharply.
TheysatbyBobbieonthebluecushions,andthetrainranback.
