“Down to the drain-works,” said Tom.
“Think it fell theer?” asked Dave.
“Yes: there was a flash of light went up.”
“Hey, bud I’ll come wi’ you,” said Dave earnestly. “I’d best land here, for I can’t get much farther.”
For thereabouts the track went wide of the edge of the mere, and Dave was just landing, talking volubly the while, as the squire and Mr Marston pressed on, leaving them behind, when there came another hail off the water.
“Why, it’s John Warren!” cried Tom.
“What’s matter?”
“We dunno, lad,” shouted back Dave. “Fireball come down, I think.”
“That all?” said the rabbit-catcher. “Any mischief? Don’t see no fire.”
“Nay, bud we don’t know,” replied Dave. “Squire and engineer chap’s on ahead, and we’re going to see. Coming?”