"All right," agreed Rob, "go ahead. I don't like it, and I expect we shall come to grief; but I can stand it if you can."
[CHAPTER XXIV]
THE TIMELY EXPLOSION OF A BOILER
Greatly depressed by the unexplained disappearance of their Chinese engine-driver, our lads, ignorant of everything connected with machinery, set themselves the hazardous task of running a locomotive. They got it started without difficulty, and ten minutes later were running at tremendous speed over the level line that extended without grade or curve as far as they could see. While Rob shovelled coal until his back ached and his face was as black as that of a negro, Jo occupied the engine-driver's seat and anxiously stared ahead. Neither of them spoke, for the strain on their nerves was too great, since each knew that at any moment they were likely to be blown up, flung from the track, or sent plunging through some weakened bridge. They were facing death in a dozen forms, but stuck to their posts without flinching, for they knew that a like fate, absolutely certain, awaited the unprotected foreigner who should be caught attempting to cross those plains on foot.
So they drove on, mile after mile, dashing past the station of Sing Yang without a pause or even a slow-down, and shortly before sunset came within sight of the gray walls of Pao-Ting-Fu.
