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Updated: May 1, 2025
Engine and tender chugged out from the siding. And Murphy leaned through the window and broke all traffic rules. "Jump on, ye loon!" he yelled to the brakesman standing by the open switch. "Think I'm going to waste steam stopping for you?" The brakesman swung aboard. "All the specials are cancelled to-noight for the foight. We got three miles o' clear track. Go on, Mollie!" But he was wrong.
The latter's upper deck held the girls, with the exception of Jane, who was at the helm to steer as soon as their craft had been turned about and headed in the right direction. The houseboat came about slowly; then, as the motor boat chugged away the line grew taut and the "Red Rover" began to move. "You give me steering directions, Harriet," cried Jane. "I will wave to you.
Eagle Rock hill is known far and wide as one of the steepest ascents up which an automobile can be sent. Many cars have to take it on the low gear, or go as slowly as possible. Even then it is a strain. "Suppose we should overtake them there?" suggested Grace. "Ve'd catch 'em!" exclaimed the German, with a confidence born of admiration for his car. On and on they chugged.
"Hundreds of barrels of whiskey, but only one missionary," said Mary sadly. The boat whistle blew. The engines chugged. The "S. S. Ethiopia" was on its way. It was August 5, 1876. Mary saw the shoreline of Scotland become dimmer and dimmer. She looked forward to seeing the coast of Africa and the land of Calabar.
"Well, now; I'll be daddled if this here ain't about the beatin'est thing I ever chugged up ag'inst," was the old borderer's comment, when we had flogged our wits to small purpose in the search for some clue to the mystery. "What's your mind about it, hey, Chief?" Uncanoola shook his head. "Heap plenty slick. No go up-stream, no go down, no cross over, no go back. Mebbe go up like smoke w'at?"
They had such a jolly time at Camden that they promised faithfully to stop there again on the return voyage, and really meant to keep the promise when they chugged out of the harbour one crisp morning and turned the cruisers' bows eastward for the run across Penobscot Bay. They lazed that day, for, as Steve said, it was too fine to hurry.
Cable cars were whirling on turn-tables, newsboys shouted afternoon editions; hack drivers, flower vendors, train announcers added their babel of strident-toned outcries to the clanging of gongs, the clatter of wheels and hoofs upon cobblestone streets. Ferry sirens screamed; an engine of the Belt Line Railroad chugged fiercely as it pulled a train of freight cars toward the southern docks.
"She really isn't half bad once you get to know her." "Neither is poison," snorted Bob, as the car chugged wearily once or twice, then settled down to business. "If we ever get out of this alive, we'll be lucky." However, maybe it was the sunshine, or maybe it was Joel Banks' conversation that wrought the change in her. Be that as it may, Aunty Bixby unbent surprisingly in the next few minutes.
He nodded to intimate that he understood, and then we crept, one at a time, into the front apartment, hugging the floor closely to keep beneath the range of the bullets which swept every now and then through the broken windows, and chugged into the wall behind us.
And the Reo groaned and puffed. Up through Colorado they chugged; past Pike's Peak; through Denver, flat on the plain with a blue mountain wall to its west; on through the farmlands north of it to the sugar-beet town which was their goal. Beyond the town stood an adobe village for beetworkers on the Lukes fields, where the Beechams were to work.
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