Solon, show this boy to the
engine-room, where he can change his wet things. Don Blossom, be quiet,
sir! Aren't you ashamed of yourself!" Then, turning to Winn with a
cheery smile, she said, "We are very sorry for your accident, and should
like to know all about it after you are dry again. If you will go with
Solon to the engine-room, he will do everything he can for you."
The Captain had already hastened away on his quest for dry clothing. As
he left the room, Winn noticed that he had a wooden leg. It was not one
of the modern kind, so carefully constructed as to closely resemble the
real article, but an old-fashioned, iron-shod stick of timber strapped to
his right knee.
As Sabella finished speaking, she too left the room, running after the
Captain, and smiling cheerfully as she went at the mud-streaked boy, who
still stood speechless and motionless in the doorway.
Now, at Solon's invitation he followed the negro into what had been
called the engine-room, though to Winn's eye it looked as little like an
engine-room as any place he had ever known. At one side was a
horse-power treadmill, such as he had often seen used for the sawing of
wood. Half of it was sunk below the level of the deck, and covered with
a removable floor. It was geared in the most direct and simple manner to
a shaft that disappeared through the rear wall of the room, and
presumably connected with the stern wheel he had previously noticed.
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