“They will feel worse before we get through with it,” replied the magnate, shaking his head. “What can they do? They can’t build a railroad, the country is so rough. We can keep ahead of them now. But I want that dummy in motion. You must run it every half hour for the rest of the day between Middleport and Spangleport. Carry everybody who wishes to ride. I want the Centreport people to see it, and to know that we are alive on this side.”
“Will the students be with me?” I inquired.
“This afternoon, when they are dismissed from the school-room, they will be. I will send you a conductor. Let me see; Higgins is too sick to study, and just sick enough to play. He shall run with you. Now keep her going, as though you meant business.”
“I will, sir; I will put her through by daylight,” I replied, as I left the library.
CHAPTER XX.
THE BEAUTIFUL PASSENGER.
I found the dummy just as I had left it on the preceding day. I kindled a fire in the furnace, rubbed down the machinery, filled up the water tank, and took on a supply of coal, which was the kind of fuel intended to be used under the boiler. I assure my sympathetic reader that I felt a real pleasure in the discharge of these duties, and in the consciousness that I was actually the master of the machine. Though my taste was rather inclined towards the engine of a steamer, I was more than satisfied with my present position, and deemed myself the luckiest dog in the world.
Higgins, the invalid student, who was to officiate as conductor, stood by and watched all my movements with the most intense interest. He looked like a clever fellow, and I proceeded to make friends with him in due form, by declaring that I was sorry he was sick.
“I’m not sorry,” said he with a grin. “I’m rather glad I’m sick. In fact, I’m not very sick.”
“Well, I thought you were; the major said so; at least he said you were too sick to study, and just sick enough to play.”