“Something’s happened,” said George. “I think we ought to go and get help, Anne. We can easily follow the railway down to where we have to break off for the stable. Timmy will know, anyway. Don’t you think we ought to go back and get help?”

“Yes, I do,” said Anne, getting up. “Come on George. Gosh, this mist is worse than ever! We’ll have to be careful we don’t lose the lines! Even Timmy might find it hard to smell his way in this fog!”

They got up. Anne followed George and Timmy followed behind, looking puzzled. He couldn’t understand this night-time wandering about at all!

Anne and George kept closely to the railway lines, walking slowly along, shining the light of the torch downwards, and following carefully.

After a time George stopped, puzzled. “This line’s broken here,” she said. “There’s no more of it. That’s funny, I don’t remember it being as badly broken as this, The lines simply stop. I can’t see any more.”

“Oh George!” said Anne, peering down. “Do you know what we’ve done. We’ve come all the way up the lines again - instead of going down them, homewards! How could we have been so mad? Look, this is where they break off, so the old engine must be somewhere near, and the quarry!”

“Blow!” said George, quite in despair. “What asses we are. It shows how we can lose our sense of direction in a mist like this.”

“I can’t see or hear anything of the boys,” said Anne, fearfully. “George, let’s go to the quarry and wait there till daylight comes. I’m cold and tired. We can squeeze into one of those warm sand-caves.”

“All right,” said George, very much down in the dumps. “Come along, and for goodness’ sake don’t let’s lose our way to the quarry!”

Chapter Seventeen

Prisoners together

The two girls and Timmy made their way carefully, hoping to come across the lines that led to the quarry. They were lucky. They went across the gap in the lines where once long ago the gypsies had wrenched out the rails, and came to where they began again, and led to the edge of the quarry.

“Here they are!” said George, thankfully. “Now we’re all right. We’ve only just got to follow these and we’ll be in the quarry. I hope it will be warmer than here. Brr. This mist is terribly cold and clammy.”

“It came up so suddenly,” said Anne, shining her torch downwards. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked round and saw it creeping up on us. I...”

She stopped suddenly. Timmy had given a low growl. “What’s up, Tim?” whispered George. He stood quite still, his hackles up and his tail motionless. He looked steadfastly into the mist.

“Oh dear. What can be the matter now?” whispered Anne. “I can’t hear a thing, can you?”

They listened. No, there was nothing to hear at all. They went on into the quarry, thinking that Timmy might have heard a rabbit or hedgehog, and growled at it as he sometimes did.