“I hope we lose this race though I’ve got to do my best to win it,” the young captain muttered, as he too glanced at the Comet.
Big Ben stopped at the door of the engine room. The fireman was leaning back in a chair in front of the furnace door, and as his eyes were closed Ben judged that he was asleep.
“Hey, there,” he shouted. “What do you think this is, bed time?”
The fireman, a half-breed named Joe Cooley, slowly opened his eyes.
“I no sleep,” he stammered. “I jest restin’, oui.”
“Well, you tend to business and get some wood on the top of that coal and see if you can’t get a little speed out of this tub,” Big Ben ordered.
“She no stan’ more. She bust, you put on wood, oui,” the fireman asserted as he glanced at the steam gage.
“Bust your eye,” Big Ben snorted. “Why, you’ve only got thirty pounds there.”
“Cap’n, him say nev’ geet more thirty pounds, she bust sure. Dat safety valve, she no work, geet stuck, oui,” and the man shook his head.
“I believe the fellow’s lying,” Big Ben muttered to himself, as he walked toward the stern. “She ought to carry forty pounds all right.”