“We’ll talk about that some other time,” I answered, turning my attention to business again.
“We haven’t quite done the work yet. We must put the dummy on the track.”
“Can I help you any more?” asked the captain, with a deference which amazed me.
“You may give us one more pull, if you are not in a hurry. I’m going on shore now, and I will make a signal to start and to stop her, with my handkerchief,” said I, jumping into the skiff with Tommy.
The dummy stood within a couple of rods of the track, which was in readiness as far as Spangleport, five miles down the lake. We landed, and marched in triumph through the crowd of men and boys on the shore, though I ought to say that Tommy did the triumphal part of the programme, and looked as grand as though he had himself been the engineer of the movement. Scores of the students offered their services, and as I was on the point of sending some of them for a few planks on which to roll the dummy to the track, a platform car, which had constituted the entire rolling stock of the Lake Shore Railroad, rumbled up to the spot, in charge of a portion of the students, attended by Major Toppleton himself. The car was loaded with planks and rigging, which the Middleport magnate had foreseen we should want.
“We’ve got her out, father!” shouted Tommy, when he saw the major.
“I see you have,” replied the great man, with a cheerful smile.
“But we haven’t quite finished the job yet,” added the young gentleman, bustling about as though the completion of the work rested heavily on his shoulders. “What next, Wolf?” said he, turning to me, and speaking in a lower tone.
“We must lay down some planks to roll it on the track with,” I replied.
“Bring up the planks, fellows!” cried Tommy; and the students rushed to obey his commands.