The engineer made a detour at this stage, skirting the tennis court, then once more heading down toward the tent. He continued on his uneven way until right opposite the Meadow-Brook tent and but a few yards distant from it, when he shut off and stopped. Instantly a great burst of escaping steam roared from the safety valve, enveloping the roller in such a cloud that for the moment it was entirely obscured. The furnace door opened with a clank. When a gentle breeze blew the steam across the court toward the woods the girls saw the engineer lighting his pipe. This accomplished, he grasped the whistle lever, pulled the valve wide open and held it there, filling the air with an ear-splitting noise that lasted for a full minute and was deafening to say the least.
The girls were peering out through the narrow slit at the opening of their tent, but immediately on the starting of the whistle they poked their fingers in their ears to shut out the awful sound.
“Stop it!” yelled Crazy Jane. But the whistle drowned the sound of her voice, the latter being barely heard by her companions in the tent.
About this time they discovered P. Earlington Disbrow hopping from his tent with the aid of his stick. He had hastily drawn on his clothes, his hair was standing up in an unkempt shock. He approached the steam roller in a series of leaps and bounds, aided by his stick. The engineer, observing him, finally decided to let go of the whistle lever.
“Here, you bally driver, what do you mean by waking civilized people up by that din?” he demanded angrily.
“Isn’t this the place?” questioned the engineer innocently.
“Yes, it is the place, but blowing all the steam out of your boiler wasn’t a part of the job for which you were engaged. Either stop that racket or pull off where we won’t hear you. It’s five o’clock in the morning.”
“I got to get through and go back on a road job.”
“You will be finished before you start if you don’t watch out. Pull away from there. There are ladies in that tent. I don’t flatter myself that they are asleep. If this were a cemetery nobody would be asleep now, after your salutation to the dawn. Pull out, I tell you, and give them a chance.”
The engineer jerked the throttle open and started his lumbering craft ahead without a word of reply to the irate Englishman, who was regarding him with frowning eyes. The engineer drove his engine to the edge of the clearing, where once more the steam began to blow off, but he mercifully refrained from pulling the whistle. After the roller had come to a halt again, Disbrow hopped back to his own tent, where he took his time about making his morning toilet.