as if enjoying a quiet smoke before starting. No cars were attached,
and no driver was to be seen, for Bill was off with the other men
behind the station-house, helping the expressman, whose horse had
backed down a bank and upset the wagon.
“Good chance for a look at the old lady,” said Frank, speaking of
the engine as Bill did, and jumping aboard with great satisfaction,
followed by Gus.
“I’d give ten dollars if I could run her up to the bend and back,” he
added, fondly touching the bright brass knobs and glancing at the
fire with a critical eye.
“You couldn’t do it alone,” answered Gus, sitting down on the
grimy little perch, willing to indulge his mate’s amiable weakness.
“Give me leave to try? Steam is up, and I could do it as easy as
not”; and Frank put his hand on the throttle-valve, as if daring Gus
to give the word.
“Fire up and make her hum!” laughed Gus, quoting Bill’s frequent
order to his mate, but with no idea of being obeyed.
“All right; I’ll just roll her up to the switch and back again. I’ve
often done it with Bill”; and Frank cautiously opened the
throttle-valve, threw back the lever, and the great thing moved
with a throb and a puff.
“Steady, old fellow, or you’ll come to grief. Here, don’t open that!”
shouted Gus, for just at that moment Joe appeared at the switch,
looking ready for mischief.
“Wish he would; no train for twenty minutes, and we could run up
to the bend as well as not,” said Frank, getting excited with the
sense of power, as the monster obeyed his hand so entirely that it
was impossible to resist prolonging the delight.
“By George, he has! Stop her! Back her! Hold on, Frank!” cried
Gus, as Joe, only catching the words “Open that!” obeyed, without
the least idea that they would dare to leave the siding.
But they did, for Frank rather lost his head for a minute, and out
upon the main track rolled No. 11 as quietly as a well-trained
horse taking a familiar road.
“Now you’ve done it! I’ll give you a good thrashing when I get
back!” roared Gus, shaking his fist at Joe, who stood staring,
half-pleased, half-scared, at what he had done.
“Are you really going to try it?” asked Gus, as they glided on with
increasing speed, and he, too, felt the charm of such a novel
adventure, though the consequences bid fair to be serious.
“Yes, I am,” answered Frank, with the grim look he always wore
when his strong will got the upper hand. “Bill will give it to us,
anyway, so we may as well have our fun out. If you are afraid, I’ll
slow down and you can jump off,” and his brown eyes sparkled
with the double delight of getting his heart’s desire and astonishing
his friend at the same time by his skill and coolness.
“Go ahead. I’ll jump when you do”; and Gus calmly sat down
again, bound in honor to stand by his mate till the smash came,
though rather dismayed at the audacity of the prank.
“Don’t you call this just splendid?” exclaimed Frank, as they rolled
along over the crossing, past the bridge, toward the curve, a mile
from the station.
“Not bad. They are yelling like mad after us. Better go back, if you
can,” said Gus, who was anxiously peering out, and, in spite of his
efforts to seem at ease, not enjoying the trip a particle.
“Let them yell. I started to go to the curve, and I’ll do it if it costs
me a hundred dollars. No danger; there’s no train under twenty
minutes, I tell you,” and Frank pulled out his watch. But the sun
was in his eyes, and he did not see clearly, or he would have
discovered that it was later than he thought.
On they went, and were just rounding the bend when a shrill
whistle in front startled both boys, and drove the color out of their
cheeks.
“It’s the factory train!” cried Gus, in a husky tone, as he sprang to
his feet.