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Updated: May 5, 2025
"On the other side of the tunnel is a bridge. We'll set fire to it." He glanced at his watch. "We're ahead of the passenger train's schedule, and we may find the tracks blocked at the switches in Dalton." "What then?" asked Knight. "We'll have to fight our way through," answered Andrews. "Tom, tell the men to stand ready to jump out and fight at Dalton.
I'd gone up to the depot to mail a postal on the Through, an' he got off the train an' went into the Telegraph Office. An' the train pulled out an' left him it was down to the end o' the platform before he come out. He didn't act, though, as if the train's leavin' him was much of anything to notice. He just went up an' commenced talkin' to the baggageman, Bill.
We can't get the doors open without tools, a special train's just started off to get them. If you'll only have patience there'll be plenty of help for everyone of you directly. You'll be quite safe in there, if you'll only keep still. But that was just what they found it most difficult to do keep still! In the front of the train all was chaos.
He stared blearily. His tone stiffened. "The hell you say. Too tony, eh? Too 'ic! Have a smile, I ask you, one gent to 'nother. "Train's starting, Jim," she interposed sharply. "If you want to get aboard you'd better hurry." The engine tooted, the bell was ringing, the passengers were hurrying, incited by the conductor's shout: "All 'board!" Without another word she tripped for the car steps.
You think hazily of the folk in their beds in the town left behind, who stir uneasily at the sound of your train's departing whistle; and so all is a blank vigil or a blank slumber. By daylight Basil and Isabel found themselves at opposite ends of the car, struggling severally with the problem of the morning's toilet.
Arthur Train's narrative, who began life humbly somewhere in grey New England, and ended it, so far as the reader was informed, in Sing Sing Prison. Then there was the home of Mrs. Martin, the "Duchess of Washington Square" of Brander Matthews's "The Last Meeting," and that of Miss Grandish, of Julian Ralph's "People We Pass," and the house of Mrs.
Mr. Boltwood loomed on them. "The train's coming, at last. We'll have a decent sleep for once, at the Gilsons'. I've wired them to meet us." He departed. "Terribly glad your father keeps coming down on us, because it scares me so I get desperate," said Milt. "Golly, I think I can hear the train. I, uh, Claire, Claire dear " "Milt, are you proposing to me? Please hurry, because that is the train.
He felt somehow younger, more alive. The lilt of the train's rattle changed to a gay ragtime. This was curious, because Joan was nothing more than a friend. He was not in love with her. One does not fall in love with a girl whom one has met only three times. One is attracted yes; but one does not fall in love. A moment's reflection enabled him to diagnose his sensations correctly.
They are all on the defensive, lose their tempers, as though they all want to make one feel something..." "Yes, that's true, it is so," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing good-humoredly. "Will the train soon be in?" Vronsky asked a railway official. "The train's signaled," answered the man.
They had filled their skin water bags, made in the winter, at the last spring, and they set out at a moderate pace over the plain. Dick had thought once of visiting again the scene of the train's destruction in the pass, but Albert opposed it. "No," he said, "I don't want to see that place." This journey, they knew not whither, continued easy and pleasant throughout the day.
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