CHAPTER XIV.
RAISING THE DUMMY.
“Haven’t you any one in Middleport that can raise that engine?” I asked, with a pleasant smile, after I had taken a seat in Tommy Toppleton’s beautiful sail-boat, with my old skiff in tow.
“Of course we have,” replied the Toppleton junior; “but I’m afraid it will take a week for them to do it. They are talking about rigging a derrick on the wharf.”
“You don’t need any derrick, or anything of that sort,” I added, confidently; and I was quite satisfied that with the aid of the tow-boat I could make good my promise.
“Do you think you can really raise the thing?” asked Tommy, anxiously.
“I know I can.”
“Can you do it right up quick?”
“It may take an hour or so. Can I have your father’s tow-boat?”
“Certainly you can; but my father don’t know I came over after you,” added the scion of the house of Toppleton.