Дети железной дороги
The hound in the red jersey.
"And,"saidtheoldestworkman,"‘e’soutersightnow.Whattheeyedon’tseethe‘artneedn’ttakenonoticeof’swhatIalwayssay."
Andnow,followingthetrackoftheharebythelittlewhiteblotsofscatteredpaper,camethehounds.Therewerethirtyofthem,andtheyallcamedownthesteep,ladder-likestepsbyonesandtwosandthreesandsixesandsevens.BobbieandPhyllisandPetercountedthemastheypassed.Theforemostoneshesitatedamomentatthefootoftheladder,thentheireyescaughtthegleamofscatteredwhitenessalongthelineandtheyturnedtowardsthetunnel,and,byonesandtwosandthreesandsixesandsevens,disappearedinthedarkmouthofit.Thelastone,inaredjersey,seemedtobeextinguishedbythedarknesslikeacandlethatisblownout.
"Theydon’tknowwhatthey’reinfor,"saidtheforeman;"itisn’tsoeasyrunninginthedark.Thetunneltakestwoorthreeturns."
"They’lltakealongtimetogetthrough,youthink?"Peterasked.
"Anhourormore,Ishouldn’twonder."
"Thenlet’scutacrossthetopandseethemcomeoutattheotherend,"saidPeter;"weshallgettherelongbeforetheydo."
Thecounselseemedgood,andtheywent.
