“Edwards saw the track was gone, and told me of it. I shut off steam, and put on the brakes; but I couldn’t fetch up soon enough to keep from running off.”
“All I have to say is, that you are lucky to come out of it with a whole skin,” I added, solemnly. “But hurry back as fast as you can, or you will be in hot water.”
“I’m in hot water now, and I may as well be scalded with a quart as a pint. I am willing to stay and help you put her on the track.”
“Don’t do it, Briscoe,” interposed Faxon. “You are one of the directors, and if the major finds out you meddled with the dummy, he will have you turned out of office. Rush back to the Institute, and don’t let on.”
The runaways were willing to adopt this advice. There were half a dozen of them, and as they could make easy work of pushing the car back, they soon disappeared behind the trees.
“You won’t let on—will you, Wolf?” said Faxon, in a coaxing tone, as soon as we were alone.
“I won’t volunteer to tell any stories out of school; but I shall not tell any lies about it.”
“Don’t be squeamish. Briscoe is a good fellow, and one of the directors. The major would break him if he heard of this thing.”
“Between you and me, I think he ought to be broken. Suppose they had burst the boiler, and been wiped out themselves?”
“That’s all very pretty; but they didn’t burst the boiler, and were not wiped out.”