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Updated: May 16, 2025
Philander pressed forward to add their thanks to Clayton's, and to voice their surprise and pleasure at seeing their jungle friend so far from his savage home. The party now entered the modest little hostelry, where Clayton soon made arrangements for their entertainment. They were sitting in the little, stuffy parlor when the distant chugging of an approaching automobile caught their attention.
It must be the hospital convoy that was evacuating the castle. Then near daybreak the thudding of horses' hoofs and the wheels of chugging machines thundered through the gates, making the ground tremble. Half an hour afterwards sounded the tramp of multitudes moving at a quick pace, dying away in the depths of the park.
He heard an automobile chugging up from the village and believed Al and the others were approaching the bridge where he had asked his chum to wait for him. But he lingered a bit. He was deeply moved by his discovery. This was no boy's plaything. The mechanism was the effort of a mature mind, perhaps the result of inventive genius of high quality.
All their attention was on the flying cutter a hundred yards ahead and upon the railroad crossing half a mile down the road. The freight train had left the siding, and at the moment the scouts rounded the corner she was chugging her way slowly toward the crossing. Of course, the gates were down but this only added to the peril. The runaway horse was blind with fright.
It rode over but did not light Squire Gerber's one-and-a-half-storied, weathered-gray, and set-slightly-in-a-hollow house on Claxton countryside. Three motor-cars, their engines chugging out into wide areas of stillness, stood processional at the curb. A red hall light showed against the door-pane and two lower-story windows were widely illuminated.
Sometimes it would turn up about lunch-time and stand impatiently chugging while she changed into sport's clothes, after which it would dash away with her, humming contentedly, into the depths of the country. It was the magic-carpet which obeyed all her desires. After war-days, with their petrol shortages and restricted travel, it seemed more than ordinarily magic.
An automobile stopped and she crossed over in the gap of the line of motors it made for her. The machine moved forward again, blocking any sight of her as she went on toward the house. The list of guests and the amount of money netted by the fete he received from Mrs. Randolph's secretary in neatly typewritten lists. The last of the motors were chugging up the driveway as he left.
And it came home to me again, and stronger than ever, what they were doing for us folks at hame, and how we ought to be feeling for them. The heavy firing went on for three-quarters of an hour, at least. We could hear the chugging of the big guns, and the sorrowful swishing of the shells, as if they were mournful because they were not wreaking more destruction than they were.
The Captain kept on in the direction they had been going and ran very slowly. "It'll take us all evening to get home at this rate," he said. "If we don't run past the island," he added under his breath. A few minutes later the chugging of the engine ceased and their steady, if slow, progress was arrested. "What's the matter?" asked Hinpoha. "I don't know," said the Captain in a vexed tone.
In three minutes from the time he entered the shed he was stretched full length upon the straw, fast asleep. The chugging of a motor awakened him. It was broad daylight. Many sounds came from the courtyard without. It did not take Barney long to gather his scattered wits in an instant he was wide awake. He glanced about. He was the only occupant of the shed.
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