There was a series of baffled yells, a hustling rush, and away they went into the darkness and out of sight.
But the cavalry came on and in a moment surrounded the Steam Horse.
The tall Murat like captain rode forward, and touching the flat of his sword to the visor of his cap, asked:
“Who are you? Friend or foe?”
“Well, sor,” replied Barney, readily, “shure, we’re not an inemy.”
“No? Well, what in thunder kind of a rig do you call that?”
“Can’t ye see fer yersilf?” cried Barney, a little out of patience.
“It looks like a horse made of iron.”
“Shure, an’ that’s phwat it is, but I’d advise ye not to do it any harm.”
“Fear not,” cried the tall officer. “I am Captain Elmo, of Fort Forty-Five. You don’t mean to say that that iron horse can travel of itself?”