THE GRAND PICNIC.
It is not necessary for me to quote any of the big words which Major
Toppleton used when I told him the Wimpletonians had been over and torn
up a quarter of a mile of the track of the Lake Shore Railroad. I did
not deem it best, as he asked no questions, to augment his wrath by
telling him the dummy had been off the track. He was more impatient, if
possible, to have the road completed than the boys were. He procured
the services of a score of mechanics and laborers, and we hastened with
them to the dismantled portion of the road. The rails were fished up
from the deep water, and before twelve o’clock the track was in as good
order as ever.
If the students of the Wimpleton Institute looked over the lake, and
enjoyed the mischief they had done,--as of course they did,--their
satisfaction was of short duration. Before they were turned out to
play in the afternoon, the dummy was running her regular trips to
Spangleport. I have no doubt the rascals who did the mischief felt
cheap and crestfallen when they saw the car going on its way as though
nothing had happened; and I had no more doubt that they would consider
their work ill done, and attempt to do it over again. They were not
allowed to go out nights; but I am afraid the authorities of the
Institute did not punish them very severely when they broke through the
rules in order to do mischief to the establishment on the other side.
It was only following the example of the magnate of Centreport and many
of their elders; and “like master, like man.”
When the torn-up track was relaid, the twenty men were conveyed beyond
Spangleport to build the road. Frogs and switches had been procured,
the turning apparatus was finished, and I had the pleasure of running
both ways in ship-shape style. By laying a few rods of track, and
putting down a couple of switches near the engine-house, we were
enabled to turn at the Middleport end. We always switched off to run
into the engine-house, and we had to back in, from a point _above_
the house. On the new track we ran out to a point _below_, and came
upon the main line headed towards Spangleport. I take the more pride
in describing these movements, because they were of my own invention,
though I have since learned that similar plans had been used before.
Towards night on the second day of my railroad experience, Major
Toppleton was a passenger in the engine-room. He was in high spirits
to think the mischief done by the Wimpletonians had been so speedily
repaired; but he was afraid the daring act would be repeated, as I was
quite satisfied it would. I knew my late comrades on the Centreport
side well enough to understand that they would never let the Lake Shore
Railroad enjoy peace and prosperity until they were provided with an
equivalent. I was confident that Colonel Wimpleton was racking his
brains even then for a scheme which would produce an equal excitement
among the students of his Institute.
“You know those villains over there better than I do, Wolf,” said the
major confidentially to me; and I was amazed to hear him own that I
knew anything better than he did. “Don’t you think they will attempt to
tear up the track again?”
“Yes, sir, I do think so,” I replied.
“The rascals! It mortifies me to have them get ahead of me in this
manner. If I could only catch them, I would cure them of night
wandering very quick. It is of no use for me to complain to the
colonel, or to the principal of the Wimpleton Institute. They would
enjoy my chagrin.”
“It is easy enough to prevent them from doing any more mischief,” I
added.
“How?” he asked, eagerly.
“By setting a watch.”
“Yes; and while we are watching in one place they will tear up the
rails in another.”
“There are two ways to do it. Your tow-boat can ply up and down the
shore, or we can run the dummy all night.”
“Do you think you can stand it to run the dummy all night, Wolf?”
laughed he.
“My father and I could for a few nights.”
The tow-boat had gone up the lake with a fleet of canal boats, and the
other plan was the only alternative. I saw my father at six o’clock.
He was ready to serve on the watch, but he was not willing to leave my
mother alone with my sisters at home all night, fearful that some of
the chivalrous Wimpletonians might undertake to annoy her. But Faxon
volunteered to serve with me, and was pleased with the idea. We lighted
up the reflecting lamp over the door of the engine, and, though it was
dark, we put her “through by daylight,” in a figurative sense.
We talked till we were sleepy, and then by turns each of us took a nap,
lying upon the cushions of the passenger compartment. It was a good
bed, and we enjoyed the novelty of the situation. Faxon by this time
understood the machinery very well, and I was not afraid to trust him.
We did not run on regular hours, and lay still more than half the time,
after Faxon had run the car as much as he desired. We kept an eye on
the lake for boats, of which the Wimpletonians had a whole squadron.
Only once during the night was there anything like an alarm. We saw
half a dozen boats come down through the Narrows about eleven o’clock,
but we soon lost sight of them under the shadow of the opposite shore.
We saw nothing more of them, and I concluded that the dummy, with
her bright light on the shore, had prevented another attack upon the
railroad. After this all was quiet, and there was nothing to get up an
excitement upon.
The next day I was rather sleepy at times, and so was Faxon. At eight
o’clock the major appeared, and I told him we had probably prevented
another raid upon the road, for we had seen a fleet of boats pass
through the Narrows.
“All right, Wolf; I am glad we balked the scoundrels,” answered the
major; and almost anything seemed to be a victory to the great man of
Middleport.
“I suppose they will try again some other time,” I added.
“We will see that they don’t succeed. Now we must push along the road
as fast as we can. I don’t like to disappoint the boys, but I can’t
wait for them to build the rest of it.”
I could not help smiling.
“What is it, Wolf?” he asked, smiling with me; and great men’s smiles
are sunshine to the heart.
“I don’t think they will cry if you don’t let them do any more.”
“Don’t you? Why, they begged me to let them do the work with their own
hands, and I have gratified them thus far.”
I soon convinced him that the boys were not anxious to do any more
digging, or to lay any more rails; that hard work was “played out” with
them. The magnate was delighted to hear it; and there was no grumbling
because the students were not called upon to use the shovels and the
hammers. I ran the dummy out with the men, after that, every morning at
seven o’clock, and the road progressed rapidly towards Grass Springs.
At noon we heard astounding news from Centreport. All the boats
belonging to the Wimpleton Institute--not less than a dozen of
them--had mysteriously disappeared. No one knew what had happened
to them, and no one had heard anything in the night to indicate what
had become of them. Major Toppleton inquired very particularly about
the fleet of boats Faxon and I had seen; but our information did not
elucidate the mystery. I observed that my fellow-engineer winked at me
very significantly, as though he knew more than he chose to tell.
“What did you wink for, Faxon?” I asked, when we started on our trip,
and were alone.
“You are blind as the major,” laughed he.
“What do you mean?”
“About forty of the Toppletonians found a way to get out of the
Institute last night. You won’t say a word about this--will you?”
“You had better not tell me, Faxon.”
“But I will tell you, for I don’t think the major or the principal will
say anything if the whole thing is blown. You know where the quarries
are, above Centreport, on that side.”
“Of course I do.”
“The Wimpleton boats, loaded with rocks, and the plugs taken out, lie
at the bottom of the lake, in twenty feet of water, off the quarries.
We are even with those fellows now for tearing up our track.”
“That’s too bad!” I exclaimed.
“Too bad! It wasn’t too bad to tear up our track--was it?” replied he,
indignantly.
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” I replied, sagely.
“But one evil sometimes corrects another--‘_similia similibus
curantur_,’ as our little-pill doctor used to say. The loss of their
boats will prevent the Wimps from coming over here again in the night
to cut up our road.”
I was a boy, like the rest of them; but I did not exactly enjoy this
“tit for tat” business. My mother had always taught me to exercise a
Christian spirit, and this “paying back” was a diabolical spirit. I
would not tell of these things, nor suffer my readers to gloat over
them, if any are disposed to do so--were it not to show how these two
great men, and all the little men who hung upon the skirts of their
coats, were finally reconciled to each other; and how, out of war and
vengeance, came “peace and good will to men.”
Before Miss Grace Toppleton’s birthday arrived the road was finished
to Sandy Beach, and the grand picnic took place. The two platform cars
had seats built upon them, and were attached to the dummy. I conveyed
about a hundred a trip until the middle of the day, when all Middleport
appeared to have been transported to the grove. The affair was very
elaborate in all its details. Tents, pavilions, booths, and swings had
been erected, and the Ucayga Cornet Band was on the ground.
When I came in on the twelve o’clock trip, my father presented himself
at the door of the engine-room, his face wreathed in smiles. My mother
and sisters were present, for we were now regarded as Middleporters.
“I will take care of this thing for a short time, Wolf, and you may go
and see the fun,” said my father.
“I don’t care about going now.”
“Oh, you must go; the people want to see you.”
Thus urged I entered the grove, and found myself before a speaker’s
stand, on which Major Toppleton was holding forth to the people.
“Come here, Wolf!” called he. “I want to see you.”
A couple of the students seized me by the arms, and, dragging me
forward, actually forced me up the steps upon the speaker’s stand. I
blushed, was bewildered and confused.
“Three cheers for Wolf!” shouted Faxon; and they were given.
“Come forward, Wolf. The people want to see you,” added the major,
dragging me to the front of the stage.
I blushed, and tried to escape; and then the great man jumped down, and
left me alone on the platform. I took off my cap, and bowed.
“Mr. Wolf.”
I turned. Miss Grace Toppleton was on the stage with me. I looked at
her with wonder.
“Mr. Wolf,” she continued, “the students of the Toppleton Institute,
grateful to you for your labors on the Lake Shore Railroad, wish to
present you this gold watch; and I assure you it affords me very great
pleasure to be the bearer of this token to you.”
She handed me the watch, and I took it, with a red face and a trembling
hand.
[Illustration: THE GIFT OF THE TOPPLETONIANS.--Page 274.]