She took great pride in the success of her
escape, and especially in the long concealment of her wealth. Not a
night had passed since Mrs. Strafford's visit that she had not slept
with the roll of money under her pillow by night, and buttoned safe
inside her dress by day. She knew that everybody would offer advice
and even commands about the spending or saving of it; and she brooked
no interference.
The last mile of the foot-path to South Byfleet was along the railway
track; and Betsey began to feel in haste, though it was still nearly
two hours to train time. She looked anxiously forward and back along
the rails every few minutes, for fear of being run over; and at last
she caught sight of an engine that was apparently coming toward her,
and took flight into the woods before she could gather courage to
follow the path again. The freight train proved to be at a standstill,
waiting at a turnout; and some of the men were straying about, eating
their early breakfast comfortably in this time of leisure. As the old
woman came up to them, she stopped too, for a moment of rest and
conversation.
"Where be ye goin'?" she asked pleasantly; and they told her. It was
to the town where she had to change cars and take the great through
train; a point of geography which she had learned from evening talks
between the men at the farm.
"What'll ye carry me there for?"
"We don't run no passenger cars," said one of the young fellows,
laughing. "What makes you in such a hurry?"
"I'm startin' for Pheladelphy, an' it's a gre't ways to go.
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