108 



THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 



track, jumped out, and, running down the rails with 

 the astonished engineers gaping at me, had swung 

 aboard the cab. 



" They offered no resistance ; they had n't had 

 time. Nor did they have the disposition, for I looked^ 

 strange, not to say dangerous. Hatless, dew-soaked, 

 smeared with yellow mud, and holding, as if it were 

 a baby or a bomb, a little tin pail of sand ! 



" ' Crazy,' the fireman muttered, looking to the i 

 engineer for his cue. 



" I had been crazy, perhaps, but I was not crazy 

 now. 



" ( Throw her wide open,' I commanded. ' Wide 

 open ! These are fresh turtle eggs for Professor 

 Agassiz of Cambridge. He must have them before 

 breakfast.' 



"Then they knew I was crazy, and, evidently 

 thinking it best to humor me, threw the throttle 

 wide open, and away we went. 



" I kissed my hand to the horse, grazing uncon- 

 cernedly in the open field, and gave a smile to my 

 fy crew. That was all I could give them, and hold my- 

 self and the eggs together. But the smile was enough. 

 And they smiled through their smut at me, though 

 one of them held fast to his shovel, while the other 

 kept his hand upon a big ugly wrench. Neither of 

 them spoke to me, but above the roar of the sway- 

 ing engine I caught enough of their broken talk to 

 understand that they were driving under a full head 



'' 



