“I don’t know. I saw her streaking it down the road as if she had been shot off.”
“Don’t say a word about it; but hold on here till I get my grub, and see who is missing,” said he, rushing into the building.
I did not understand what Faxon purposed to do; but I was willing to comply with the arrangement, in compassion for his stomach, if for no other reason. I had feared that my associate on the engine was concerned in the conspiracy to abstract the dummy, for I did not think any one else would be able to manage it. I was glad to find he had not engaged in the lark, and I wondered all the more who had the audacity to play with the machine. I walked over to a point on the Institute grounds which commanded a view of the Lake Shore for some distance; but I could see nothing of the dummy. Presently, Faxon, who had satisfied the cravings of his hunger in a remarkably short time, came out of the building.
“Briscoe and half a dozen other fellows are missing,” said he.
“Briscoe!” I exclaimed; for he was the fellow who had invaded my quarters the night before, and declared he could handle the engine.
“He’s a first-rate fellow, in the main, and I hope he isn’t getting into any scrape,” added Faxon, anxiously.
“I’m afraid he is. He is the fellow who has run away with the dummy.”
“Don’t say a word. I have permission to be out an hour, and we will see where they are. What can we do?”
“We can take one of the platform cars, and go after them.”
“Come along; but don’t say anything.”