CHAPTER XXIII.OFF THE TRACK.The appearance of the dummy, going at full speed, filled me with anxiety. I was sure that something was wrong, for I knew that Major Toppleton was not stirring at that hour in the morning, and that he could not have given any one permission to take out the car without telling me of it. I hastened up to the engine-house; but it was empty, and added nothing to my meagre stock of ideas on the vexed subject. The dummy was gone, and that was all I knew about it.The Institute buildings were only a short distance from the engine-house, and I next went there in search of information. The students were engaged, in large numbers, in their sports. Indeed, there were so many of them present that the suspicion I had entertained that some of the boys had goneon a lark in the dummy seemed to be disarmed. Still, a dozen or twenty of them would not be missed in the crowd, and it was possible that this number were in mischief, though I thought, if it were so, they had chosen a singular time of day for it.The students were rung up in the morning at six o’clock; but, by a merciful provision of the governors of the Institute, the first hour was devoted to play, so that those who were behind time cheated themselves out of just so much sport. I was informed that only a few neglected to get up when the bell rang; and I commend this humane and cunning arrangement to other institutions troubled by the matutinal tardiness of students. The morning is favorable to bold schemes and active movements; and the more I thought of the matter, the more anxious I became to know whose places would be vacant at the breakfast table, at seven o’clock, when the bell rang for the morning meal.I inquired for Faxon, and soon found him making a “home run” in a game of base ball. Before I had time to address him the breakfast bell rang;and with a most surprising unanimity, all games were instantly suspended—a fact which ought to convince humanitarian educators that breakfast, dinner, and supper should immediately follow play, if boys are to be taught habits of promptness. The students rushed towards “Grub Hall,” as the dining-room was called; but, though Faxon had a good appetite, I succeeded, with some difficulty, in intercepting his headlong flight.“What’s the row, Wolf?” demanded he, glancing at the open door through which the boys were filing to the breakfast table, and possibly fearing that the delay would involve an inferior piece of beefsteak.“Are any of the fellows missing?” I asked.“Not that I know of; but we can tell at the table,” replied he. “What’s up?”“The dummy is gone,” I answered, mysteriously.“Gone! Gone where?”“I don’t know. I saw her streaking it down the road as if she had been shot off.”“Don’t say a word about it; but hold on here till I get my grub, and see who is missing,” said he, rushing into the building.I did not understand what Faxon purposed to do; but I was willing to comply with the arrangement, in compassion for his stomach, if for no other reason. I had feared that my associate on the engine was concerned in the conspiracy to abstract the dummy, for I did not think any one else would be able to manage it. I was glad to find he had not engaged in the lark, and I wondered all the more who had the audacity to play with the machine. I walked over to a point on the Institute grounds which commanded a view of the Lake Shore for some distance; but I could see nothing of the dummy. Presently, Faxon, who had satisfied the cravings of his hunger in a remarkably short time, came out of the building.“Briscoe and half a dozen other fellows are missing,” said he.“Briscoe!” I exclaimed; for he was the fellow who had invaded my quarters the night before, and declared he could handle the engine.“He’s a first-rate fellow, in the main, and I hope he isn’t getting into any scrape,” added Faxon, anxiously.“I’m afraid he is. He is the fellow who has run away with the dummy.”“Don’t say a word. I have permission to be out an hour, and we will see where they are. What can we do?”“We can take one of the platform cars, and go after them.”“Come along; but don’t say anything.”We went to the engine-house, and lifted one of the platform cars on the track. The Lake Shore Railroad, as I had found by running the dummy, had a slight descent from Middleport to Spangleport. We pushed the car, running behind it, till we had worked it up to a high rate of speed, and then leaped upon the platform. The impetus thus given to it kept it going for a mile, when the motive power was applied again, as before. In this manner we ran three miles, without making very hard work of it, and came in sight of the dummy.“There she is!” exclaimed Faxon. “The fellows did not go a great way in her.”“No! but they went as far as they could,” I replied, as soon as I had examined the situation ofthe car, which was not in motion when we discovered it.“How do you know?”“She’s off the track.”“That’s too bad!”For my own part I was rather glad the enterprise of the runaways had been nipped in the bud, for I had a professional contempt for those who attempt to run an engine when they know nothing about one. I only hoped the dummy and the boys were not injured. As we approached nearer to the scene of the disaster, we saw the conspirators hard at work trying to get the dummy on the track.“What are you about, you spoonies!” shouted Faxon, as we stopped the car close to the unfortunate dummy.“We are trying to get the thing on the track,” replied Briscoe, as coolly as though he had done nothing wrong.“How came she out here?” demanded Faxon.“Oh, well, we were having a little fun with her.”“You were missed at breakfast, and you will catch fits for this.”“I suppose we shall; but we can’t help it now.”“What did you meddle with her for, you spoonies, when you didn’t know anything about her?” continued Faxon, indignantly.“I know all about her, as well as you do, Faxon. You needn’t put on airs because you helped run the thing,” retorted Briscoe.“I should think you did know all about her; and that’s the reason why you ran her off the track. You don’t know so much as you think you do.”“That may be, but I know more than you think I do.”“What did you run her off for?”“I suppose it is considered rather necessary to have rails for this thing to run on,” replied Briscoe. “If you will look ahead of her, you will see that the track is torn up for a quarter of a mile, and the rails carried off.”“Is that so?” added Faxon, walking out ahead of the dummy.“That’s so, as you may see for yourself,” said Briscoe, following us along the track.“Who did it? That’s the next question,” asked Faxon, vexed, as we all were, at the discovery.“I don’t know; we didn’t,” answered Briscoe. “If the track hadn’t been pulled up, we should have returned at breakfast time. What’s to be done?”“You must get back as quick as you can,” replied the benevolent Faxon. “I won’t blow on you. Take that car, and make time for the Institute.”“You’re a good fellow, Faxon,” added Briscoe, with a smile.“If I am, don’t you play this game again.”“I won’t, again.”“How did it work?” I inquired, wishing to hear the experience of the runaways.“First rate. I had no trouble with it. She started when I pulled the thing, and we made time on her coming down, you had better believe.”“I should think you did. I saw you putting her through by daylight.”“Edwards saw the track was gone, and told me of it. I shut off steam, and put on the brakes; but I couldn’t fetch up soon enough to keep from running off.”“All I have to say is, that you are lucky to come out of it with a whole skin,” I added, solemnly. “But hurry back as fast as you can, or you will be in hot water.”“I’m in hot water now, and I may as well be scalded with a quart as a pint. I am willing to stay and help you put her on the track.”“Don’t do it, Briscoe,” interposed Faxon. “You are one of the directors, and if the major finds out you meddled with the dummy, he will have you turned out of office. Rush back to the Institute, and don’t let on.”The runaways were willing to adopt this advice. There were half a dozen of them, and as they could make easy work of pushing the car back, they soon disappeared behind the trees.“You won’t let on—will you, Wolf?” said Faxon, in a coaxing tone, as soon as we were alone.“I won’t volunteer to tell any stories out of school; but I shall not tell any lies about it.”“Don’t be squeamish. Briscoe is a good fellow, and one of the directors. The major would break him if he heard of this thing.”“Between you and me, I think he ought to be broken. Suppose they had burst the boiler, and been wiped out themselves?”“That’s all very pretty; but they didn’t burst the boiler, and were not wiped out.”“I’m at work for Major Toppleton. If he asks me any questions, I shall tell him the truth.”“Oh, come now!”“But I don’t think he is likely to ask me any questions. There will be a breeze when he finds out the track has been torn up, and there will be fog enough with it to cover up those fellows.”“Be a good fellow, Wolf, and don’t say a word.”“I will not if I can help it. I don’t think anybody will know anything about this scrape. Those who saw the dummy come out will suppose I was on her. But here’s a pretty kettle of fish!” I added, glancing at the dummy, and then at the road minus the rails.“Can we put the thing on the track again?”“I think we can—we can try it, at least. We want some of those rails for levers.”“Where are they?” asked the puzzled Faxon. “Did some one steal them for old iron?”“No; they are not far off,” I replied, leading the way down to the Lake Shore.We walked along the beach, till I discovered footsteps in the sand.“Here is where they landed,” I added, pointing to the prints, and also to some deep lines gored in the sand by a couple of boats, which had been hauled up on the beach.“Who landed? I don’t understand it.”“I do; an enemy has done this. The Wimpletonians have been over here during the night and torn up your track.”“If they did, it will be a sorry day for them,” said Faxon, grating his teeth and shaking his head.“These footprints were made by dandy boots, and all the party were boys. It’s as plain as the nose on Colonel Wimpleton’s face;” and the great man of Centreport was troubled with a long proboscis.“They’ll catch it for this.”We walked along till we came to Grass Brook, and there we found the rails thrown into the deepwater at the mouth of it. The end of one of them lay within my reach, and I pulled it out. Using this as a lever, we pried up the wheels of the dummy, and, after an hour of severe exertion, we succeeded in putting the car upon the track.
OFF THE TRACK.
The appearance of the dummy, going at full speed, filled me with anxiety. I was sure that something was wrong, for I knew that Major Toppleton was not stirring at that hour in the morning, and that he could not have given any one permission to take out the car without telling me of it. I hastened up to the engine-house; but it was empty, and added nothing to my meagre stock of ideas on the vexed subject. The dummy was gone, and that was all I knew about it.
The Institute buildings were only a short distance from the engine-house, and I next went there in search of information. The students were engaged, in large numbers, in their sports. Indeed, there were so many of them present that the suspicion I had entertained that some of the boys had goneon a lark in the dummy seemed to be disarmed. Still, a dozen or twenty of them would not be missed in the crowd, and it was possible that this number were in mischief, though I thought, if it were so, they had chosen a singular time of day for it.
The students were rung up in the morning at six o’clock; but, by a merciful provision of the governors of the Institute, the first hour was devoted to play, so that those who were behind time cheated themselves out of just so much sport. I was informed that only a few neglected to get up when the bell rang; and I commend this humane and cunning arrangement to other institutions troubled by the matutinal tardiness of students. The morning is favorable to bold schemes and active movements; and the more I thought of the matter, the more anxious I became to know whose places would be vacant at the breakfast table, at seven o’clock, when the bell rang for the morning meal.
I inquired for Faxon, and soon found him making a “home run” in a game of base ball. Before I had time to address him the breakfast bell rang;and with a most surprising unanimity, all games were instantly suspended—a fact which ought to convince humanitarian educators that breakfast, dinner, and supper should immediately follow play, if boys are to be taught habits of promptness. The students rushed towards “Grub Hall,” as the dining-room was called; but, though Faxon had a good appetite, I succeeded, with some difficulty, in intercepting his headlong flight.
“What’s the row, Wolf?” demanded he, glancing at the open door through which the boys were filing to the breakfast table, and possibly fearing that the delay would involve an inferior piece of beefsteak.
“Are any of the fellows missing?” I asked.
“Not that I know of; but we can tell at the table,” replied he. “What’s up?”
“The dummy is gone,” I answered, mysteriously.
“Gone! Gone where?”
“I don’t know. I saw her streaking it down the road as if she had been shot off.”
“Don’t say a word about it; but hold on here till I get my grub, and see who is missing,” said he, rushing into the building.
I did not understand what Faxon purposed to do; but I was willing to comply with the arrangement, in compassion for his stomach, if for no other reason. I had feared that my associate on the engine was concerned in the conspiracy to abstract the dummy, for I did not think any one else would be able to manage it. I was glad to find he had not engaged in the lark, and I wondered all the more who had the audacity to play with the machine. I walked over to a point on the Institute grounds which commanded a view of the Lake Shore for some distance; but I could see nothing of the dummy. Presently, Faxon, who had satisfied the cravings of his hunger in a remarkably short time, came out of the building.
“Briscoe and half a dozen other fellows are missing,” said he.
“Briscoe!” I exclaimed; for he was the fellow who had invaded my quarters the night before, and declared he could handle the engine.
“He’s a first-rate fellow, in the main, and I hope he isn’t getting into any scrape,” added Faxon, anxiously.
“I’m afraid he is. He is the fellow who has run away with the dummy.”
“Don’t say a word. I have permission to be out an hour, and we will see where they are. What can we do?”
“We can take one of the platform cars, and go after them.”
“Come along; but don’t say anything.”
We went to the engine-house, and lifted one of the platform cars on the track. The Lake Shore Railroad, as I had found by running the dummy, had a slight descent from Middleport to Spangleport. We pushed the car, running behind it, till we had worked it up to a high rate of speed, and then leaped upon the platform. The impetus thus given to it kept it going for a mile, when the motive power was applied again, as before. In this manner we ran three miles, without making very hard work of it, and came in sight of the dummy.
“There she is!” exclaimed Faxon. “The fellows did not go a great way in her.”
“No! but they went as far as they could,” I replied, as soon as I had examined the situation ofthe car, which was not in motion when we discovered it.
“How do you know?”
“She’s off the track.”
“That’s too bad!”
For my own part I was rather glad the enterprise of the runaways had been nipped in the bud, for I had a professional contempt for those who attempt to run an engine when they know nothing about one. I only hoped the dummy and the boys were not injured. As we approached nearer to the scene of the disaster, we saw the conspirators hard at work trying to get the dummy on the track.
“What are you about, you spoonies!” shouted Faxon, as we stopped the car close to the unfortunate dummy.
“We are trying to get the thing on the track,” replied Briscoe, as coolly as though he had done nothing wrong.
“How came she out here?” demanded Faxon.
“Oh, well, we were having a little fun with her.”
“You were missed at breakfast, and you will catch fits for this.”
“I suppose we shall; but we can’t help it now.”
“What did you meddle with her for, you spoonies, when you didn’t know anything about her?” continued Faxon, indignantly.
“I know all about her, as well as you do, Faxon. You needn’t put on airs because you helped run the thing,” retorted Briscoe.
“I should think you did know all about her; and that’s the reason why you ran her off the track. You don’t know so much as you think you do.”
“That may be, but I know more than you think I do.”
“What did you run her off for?”
“I suppose it is considered rather necessary to have rails for this thing to run on,” replied Briscoe. “If you will look ahead of her, you will see that the track is torn up for a quarter of a mile, and the rails carried off.”
“Is that so?” added Faxon, walking out ahead of the dummy.
“That’s so, as you may see for yourself,” said Briscoe, following us along the track.
“Who did it? That’s the next question,” asked Faxon, vexed, as we all were, at the discovery.
“I don’t know; we didn’t,” answered Briscoe. “If the track hadn’t been pulled up, we should have returned at breakfast time. What’s to be done?”
“You must get back as quick as you can,” replied the benevolent Faxon. “I won’t blow on you. Take that car, and make time for the Institute.”
“You’re a good fellow, Faxon,” added Briscoe, with a smile.
“If I am, don’t you play this game again.”
“I won’t, again.”
“How did it work?” I inquired, wishing to hear the experience of the runaways.
“First rate. I had no trouble with it. She started when I pulled the thing, and we made time on her coming down, you had better believe.”
“I should think you did. I saw you putting her through by daylight.”
“Edwards saw the track was gone, and told me of it. I shut off steam, and put on the brakes; but I couldn’t fetch up soon enough to keep from running off.”
“All I have to say is, that you are lucky to come out of it with a whole skin,” I added, solemnly. “But hurry back as fast as you can, or you will be in hot water.”
“I’m in hot water now, and I may as well be scalded with a quart as a pint. I am willing to stay and help you put her on the track.”
“Don’t do it, Briscoe,” interposed Faxon. “You are one of the directors, and if the major finds out you meddled with the dummy, he will have you turned out of office. Rush back to the Institute, and don’t let on.”
The runaways were willing to adopt this advice. There were half a dozen of them, and as they could make easy work of pushing the car back, they soon disappeared behind the trees.
“You won’t let on—will you, Wolf?” said Faxon, in a coaxing tone, as soon as we were alone.
“I won’t volunteer to tell any stories out of school; but I shall not tell any lies about it.”
“Don’t be squeamish. Briscoe is a good fellow, and one of the directors. The major would break him if he heard of this thing.”
“Between you and me, I think he ought to be broken. Suppose they had burst the boiler, and been wiped out themselves?”
“That’s all very pretty; but they didn’t burst the boiler, and were not wiped out.”
“I’m at work for Major Toppleton. If he asks me any questions, I shall tell him the truth.”
“Oh, come now!”
“But I don’t think he is likely to ask me any questions. There will be a breeze when he finds out the track has been torn up, and there will be fog enough with it to cover up those fellows.”
“Be a good fellow, Wolf, and don’t say a word.”
“I will not if I can help it. I don’t think anybody will know anything about this scrape. Those who saw the dummy come out will suppose I was on her. But here’s a pretty kettle of fish!” I added, glancing at the dummy, and then at the road minus the rails.
“Can we put the thing on the track again?”
“I think we can—we can try it, at least. We want some of those rails for levers.”
“Where are they?” asked the puzzled Faxon. “Did some one steal them for old iron?”
“No; they are not far off,” I replied, leading the way down to the Lake Shore.
We walked along the beach, till I discovered footsteps in the sand.
“Here is where they landed,” I added, pointing to the prints, and also to some deep lines gored in the sand by a couple of boats, which had been hauled up on the beach.
“Who landed? I don’t understand it.”
“I do; an enemy has done this. The Wimpletonians have been over here during the night and torn up your track.”
“If they did, it will be a sorry day for them,” said Faxon, grating his teeth and shaking his head.
“These footprints were made by dandy boots, and all the party were boys. It’s as plain as the nose on Colonel Wimpleton’s face;” and the great man of Centreport was troubled with a long proboscis.
“They’ll catch it for this.”
We walked along till we came to Grass Brook, and there we found the rails thrown into the deepwater at the mouth of it. The end of one of them lay within my reach, and I pulled it out. Using this as a lever, we pried up the wheels of the dummy, and, after an hour of severe exertion, we succeeded in putting the car upon the track.