Don't look at me like that, Rob! I won't have it! But was it
not clever of that dear Mr. Rae to extract that letter from the wretched
Potts?"
"There's the train!" cried Dunn. "Here, Rob, you stay here with me!
Where has the young rascal gone!"
"Look! Oh, look!" cried Miss Brodie, clutching at Dunn's arm, her eyes
wide with terror. There before their horrified eyes was young Rob,
hanging on to the window, out of which his friend Cameron was leaning,
and racing madly with the swiftly moving train, in momentary danger of
being dragged under its wheels. With a cry, Dunn rushed forward.
"Merciful heavens!" cried Miss Brodie. "Oh! he is gone!"
A porter, standing with his back towards the racing boy, had knocked
his feet from under him. But as he fell, a strong hand grabbed him, and
dragged him to safety through the window.
Pale and shaking, the three friends waited for the car door to be
opened, and as Rob issued in triumphant possession of his friend, Miss
Brodie rushed at him and, seizing him in her strong grasp, cried:
"You heartless young rascal! You nearly killed me--not to speak of
yourself! Here," she continued, throwing her arms about him, and giving
him a loud smack, "take that for your punishment! Do you hear, you
nearly killed me! I had a vision of your mangled form ground up between
the wheels and the platform.
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