AT THE SEABURYS’
The wrecking crew had arrived shortly before the boys and the professor
got back, and there was a big crowd of passengers and train men around
the laborers.
“Never mind eating,” called Ned. “Come on, watch ’em. We can get a bite
afterward.”
“Not for mine,” sung out Bob, as he made a dive for the dining car.
“I’ll be with you pretty soon.”
“There he goes again,” remarked Ned with a sigh. “I couldn’t eat when
there’s any excitement going on. I want to see how they get the cars on
the track.”
“So do I.” said Jerry.
They pressed on to where, by means of powerful hydraulic jacks, men
were busy raising up the engine, which, because of its weight, had sunk
quite deeply into the ground. The jacks were small, but one man worked
the handle, which pumped water from one part of it to another, and
elevated a piston, that, in turn was forced up with terrible pressure,
thus raising one end of the ponderous locomotive.
When the wheels were clear of the earth other men slipped under them
some peculiar shaped pieces of iron, so arranged that when the
locomotive was pulled or pushed ahead by another engine, the wheels
would slip upon the rails.
In turn each of the wheels of the engine and tender were so fixed. Then
word was given the engineer of the relief train to back down and haul
the derailed locomotive back on to the track.
“All ready?” called the foreman of the wrecking crew.
“All ready,” replied the engineer.
Jerry and Ned, in common with scores of others, were straining forward
to watch every detail of the task. They wanted to see whether the
locomotive would take to the rails, or slip off the inclined irons, and
again settle down upon the ground.
“Let her go, Bill,” called the foreman to the engineer of the wrecking
crew.
There was a warning whistle, a straining of heavy chains, creakings and
groanings from the derailed engine as if it objected to being pulled
and hauled about, then the ponderous driving wheels began to turn
slowly.
“Stand clear, everybody!” cried the foreman.
At that moment Bob came running up, using the back of his hand as a
napkin for his lips.
“There she goes!” was the loud cry.
As the crowd looked, they saw the derailed and helpless engine give a
sort of shudder and shake, mount the inclined pieces of iron, and then
slide upon the rails, settling down where it belonged.
“Hurrah!” cried the passengers, in recognition of a hard task well
accomplished.
“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” announced the foreman. “Now boys, hustle,
and we’ll get the cars on, and the line will be clear.”
It did not take long to get the cars on the rails, as they were
lighter. The damaged engine was switched off to one side, some rails,
which had been displaced when the train bumped off, were spiked down,
and the wreck was a thing of the past.
“All aboard!” called the conductor. “All aboard! Step lively now!”
The relief engine was not a fast one, being built more for power than
speed, and the train had to proceed along rather slowly. But the boys
did not mind this, as they had plenty to talk about, and they were
interested in the country through which they were traveling.
They arrived at Los Angeles somewhat behind their schedule, and did not
leave there as soon as they expected to, as Professor Snodgrass wanted
to call on a scientific friend, to learn something about the best place
to hunt for horned toads.
“It’s all right, boys,” he announced, when he returned to the Los
Angeles hotel, where the three chums had put up. “My friend says the
vicinity of San Felicity, where you are going to call on the Seaburys,
is a grand place for horned toads. Come, we will start at once.”
They found, however, that they would have to wait until the next day
for a train. They started early the following morning, traveling
through a stretch of country where it seemed as if it was always
summer. Back home there had already been evidences of fall, before they
left, but here there seemed to be no hint of approaching winter.
“Oh, isn’t this fine!” exclaimed Ned, breathing in the sweetly-scented
air, as he stuck his head from the car window. “It’s like reading about
some fairy story!”
“It’s better than reading it,” said Jerry. “It’s the real thing.”
They arrived at San Felicity, shortly before noon. It was a very hot
day, though the morning had been cool, and the boys began to appreciate
the fact that they had come to a southern climate. There seemed to be
no one at the little railroad station, at which they were the only
passengers to leave the train. The train baggage man piled their trunks
and valises in a heap on the platform, the engine gave a farewell toot,
and the travelers were thus left alone, in what appeared a deserted
locality.
“There doesn’t seem to be much doing,” observed Jerry. “Let’s see now,
Nellie wrote that we were to take a stage to get to their house, but I
don’t see any stage. Wonder where the station agent is?”
“Hark!” said the professor, raising his hand for silence. “What noise
is that? It sounds as if it might be a horned toad grunting. They make
a noise just like that.”
“I would say it sounded more like some one snoring,” ventured Ned.
“It is!” exclaimed Bob. “Here’s the station agent asleep in the ticket
office,” and he looked in an open window, on the shady side of the
platform. From the interior came the sounds which indicated a person in
deep slumber.
“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the professor. “I took him for a horned
toad! I hope he didn’t hear me.”
“No danger,” remarked Jerry. “He’s sound asleep. Even the train didn’t
wake him up.”
The four gazed in on the slumbering agent. Perhaps there was some
mysterious influence in the four pairs of eyes, for the man suddenly
awakened with a start, stared for a moment at the travelers gazing in
on him, and then sat up.
“Good day, señors!” he exclaimed, and they saw that he was a Mexican.
“Do you wish tickets? If you do, I regret to inform you that the only
train for the day has gone. There will be none until to-morrow,” and he
prepared to go to sleep again.
“Here!” cried Jerry. “We don’t want any, tickets! We want to find the
way to Mr. Nathan Seabury’s house, and to learn if there’s a stage
which goes there.”
“There is, señor,” replied the agent, yawning, “but I doubt if the
driver is here. He seldom comes to meet the train, as there are very
few travelers. Will it not do to go to Señor Seabury’s to-morrow, or
next day, or the day after?”
“Hardly,” replied Jerry, who, as did the other boys, began to
appreciate the Mexican habit of saying “mananna” which means
“to-morrow,” for the Mexicans have a lazy habit of putting off until
to-morrow whatever they have to do to-day. “We want to go to-day, right
away, at once, now!”
“Ah, the señors are Americanos—always in a hurry,” answered the agent,
but in no unfriendly manner. “Very well, I will see if Hop Sing has his
stage here.”
“Hop Sing?” questioned Ned.
“Yes, señor, he is a Chinaman. You will find him a very slow and
careful driver.”
“Slow? I guess everything’s slow down here,” said Ned in a low voice.
The agent came leisurely from his office, walked to the end of the
platform, and, pointing toward a low shed, remarked:
“That is where the stage is kept. I will call, and see if Hop Sing is
there.”
Then he called, but in such a low tone, as if he was afraid he might
strain his voice, that it did not seem as if he could be heard ten feet
away. Jerry stood it as long as he could and then said:
“I guess Hop Sing must be taking his noon nap. I’ll go over and wake
him up.”
“Ah, the señor is in a hurry,” and the Mexican agent smiled as though
that was a strange thing. “If he would wait an hour, or perhaps two,
Hop Sing might awaken. Besides, to-morrow—”
“Not for ours,” said Ned. “We’ve got to go to-day.”
The agent shrugged his shoulders, and went back into his little office
to resume his nap. Jerry walked over to the shed.
“Hey! Hop Sing!” he called, as he approached. “Where’s the stage?”
“Want stage? Take lide? All lite! Me come! Chop-chop! Give number one,
top-slide lide!” exclaimed a voice, and a small Chinaman jumped down
from the stage seat, where, under the shade of the shed he had been
sleeping, and began to untie the halters of the mules that were
attached to the ram-shackle old vehicle.
“Be lite out!” Hop Sing went on. “Me glive you click lide. Me go fast!
You see! Chop-chop!”
“All right, if the old shebang doesn’t fall apart on the way,” said
Jerry with a laugh, as he saw the stage which the Celestial backed out
of the shed. Certainly it looked as if it could not go many miles.
“Come on!” called Jerry to Ned, Bob and the professor, who had remained
on the platform. “I guess it’s safe. The mules don’t look as if they
would run away.”
They piled into the aged vehicle, and Hop Sing, with a quickness that
was in surprising contrast to the indolence of the Mexican agent, put
their trunks and valises on top.
“Now we glow click, you sabe?” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Me
know Mlister Seablury. Him number one man, top-slide,” which was Hop
Sing’s way of saying that anything was the very best possible.
The boys soon found that while Hop Sing might be a slow and careful
driver, it was due more to the characters of the mules, than to
anything else. The Chinese yelled at them in a queer mixture of his own
language, Mexican and American. He belabored them with a whip, and
yanked on the reins, but the animals only ambled slowly along the sunny
road, as if they had a certain time schedule, and were determined to
stick to it.
“Can’t they go any faster?” asked Ned.
“Flaster?” asked Hop, innocently. “They Mlexican mules. No go flast. Me
go flast, mules not,” and he began jumping up and down in his seat, as
if that would help matters any. He redoubled his yells and shouts, and
made the whip crack like a pistol, but the mules only wagged their ears
and crawled along.
“I guess you’ll have to let matters take their course while you’re
here,” suggested the professor. “You can’t change the habits of the
people, or the animals.”
They did manage, after strenuous efforts on Hop’s part, to get to the
Seabury bungalow. It was in the midst of a beautiful garden, and a long
walk led up to the house, around which was an adobe wall, with a red
gate. Over the gate was a roof, making a pleasant shade, and there were
seats, where one might rest.
In fact some one was resting there as the stage drove up. He was a
colored man, stretched out on his back, sound asleep.
“Well, I wonder if they do anything else in this country but sleep?”
asked Jerry.
“Why—that’s Ponto, Mr. Seabury’s negro helper,” said Ned. “Hello,
Ponto. All aboard the _Wanderer!”_
“What’s dat? Who done call me?” and the colored man sat up suddenly,
rubbing his eyes. “Who says _Wanderer? _ Why dat boat—”
Then he caught sight of the travelers.
“Why, I ’clar’ t’ gracious!” he exclaimed. “Ef it ain’t dem motor boys
an’ Perfesser Snowgrass!”
“How are you, Ponto?” sang out Bob.
“Fine, sah! Dat’s what I is! Fine. I ’clar’ t’ gracious I’se glad t’
see yo’! Git down offen dat stage! It’ll fall apart in anoder minute!
Go long outer heah, yo’ yellow trash!” and Ponto shook his fist at Hop
Sing. “Wha’ fo’ yo’ stan’ ‘round heah, listen’ t’ what yo’ betters
sayin’.”
“I guess I’d better pay him,” said Jerry, and settled with the
Celestial, who drove slowly off.
“Now come right in!” exclaimed Ponto. “I were—I were jest thinkin’ out
dar on dat bench—yais, sah, I were thinkin’, an’ fust thing I knowed I
was ’sleep. It’s a turrible sleepy country, dat’s what ’tis, fer a
fact. I’se gittin’ in turrible lazy habits sence I come heah. But come
on in. Massa Seabury, he’ll be powerful glad t’ see yo’. So’ll th’
young ladies. Dey was sayin’ only las’ night, dat it seemed laik dem
boys nevah goin’ t’ come. But heah yo’ be! Yais, sah, I were jest
thinkin’ out on dat bench—”
But Panto’s rambling talk was suddenly interrupted by a glad cry from
the shrubbery. Then there came a rush of skirts, and the boys saw three
girls running toward them.
“Here they are, dad!” called Nellie. “Here are the boys and Professor
Snodgrass! Oh, we’re so glad you came! Welcome to ‘The Next Day’!
That’s what we’ve christened our bungalow, in honor of this lazy
country. Come on in,” and she ran up to Jerry, holding out her hands.