“Has the harse the heaves, or has the haythenish baste foundered?” asked Barney.
“Darned if I know what’s the matter,” said Frank; and then he saw that Gorse was stuck, too.
“What’s the matter, Charley?” he yelled.
“Fire almost out,” yelled back Gorse, and ran to his coal box.
“Maybe mine is too,” said Frank. “Barney, see to the fire.”
“I will that,” said Shea, and ran to the breast of the horse.
“A fire hot enough to singe the bristles o’ Mrs. Faylix O’Doolahan’s pigs,” said the rollicking Irishman.
“Jump down lively,” requested Hale, “and see what is the matter. Those fellows may eat my boys up, if we don’t follow them in a moment.”
Frank sprang from his seat, and first looked at his gauge.
It registered thirty pounds of steam.