“Why didn’t you send a man back with a flag or put a torpedo on the track?” he demanded of the freight train conductor.

“Did send a man back,” was the answer, “but he didn’t go back far enough—­hadn’t time.  This happened only a few minutes ago.”

“You can’t expect me to stop in a hundred feet,” growled the engineer.  As a matter of fact he had not stopped in many times that distance.

“Well, I did what I could,” grumbled the freight conductor.

By making inquiries the Rover boys learned that the freight train had jumped a frog at a switch and part of the cars were on one track and part on another.  Two trucks were broken, and nobody could tell how long it would take to clear the track upon which the express stood.

“May be an hour, but more likely it will be six or eight,” said one of the brakemen to Tom.  “This section of the road is the worst managed of the lot.”

“And how far is it to Ashton?” asked Dick.

“About twelve miles by the railroad.”

“Then walking is out of the question,” came from Sam.  “I shouldn’t mind hoofing it if it was two or three.”

“The railroad has to run around the hill yonder,” went on the train hand.  “If you go up the tracks for a quarter of a mile you’ll come to a country road that will take you right into Ashton, and the distance from there isn’t more than seven or eight miles.”

“Any houses on that road?” asked Tom.

“Of course—­farmhouses all along.”

“Then come on,” went on Tom to his brothers.  “We can hire a carriage to take us to Ashton and to the college.  Some farmer will be glad of the chance to earn the money.”

“Let us wait and see if the train moves first,” answered Dick.

“She won’t move just yet,” answered the brakeman with a sickly grin.

The boys stood around for a quarter of an hour and then decided to walk up to the country road that had been mentioned.  Their trunks were checked through, but they had their dress-suit cases with them.

“We’ll have to carry these,” said Sam dolefully.

“Let us see if we can’t check them,” returned his big brother.  But this was impossible, for the baggage car was locked and they could not find the man who had charge of it.

“Oh, well, come on,” said Tom.  “The cases are not so heavy, and it is a fine day for walking,” and off he started and his brothers followed him.

It was certainly a fine day, as Tom said.  It was early September, clear and cool, with a faint breeze blowing from the west.  On the way they passed an apple orchard, laden with fruit, and they stopped long enough to get some.

“I declare this is better than sitting in that stuffy car,” remarked Sam as he munched on an apple.  “I am glad to stretch my legs.”

“If we don’t have to stretch them too long,” remarked Dick.

“Say, I wonder if we’ll pass anywhere near Hope Seminary!” cried Tom, “It may be on this road.”