“I can’t run it without a fireman,” I replied. “I will do anything to oblige you, sir; but Tommy means to ruin me if he can.” “Start the train, and I will see that Tom Walton is with you as soon as you will need him,” added the great man, in a whisper. “I will, sir.” I jumped upon the engine, and started her, just ten minutes behind the time. I saw Major Toppleton take Tom Walton into the forward car with him, as I opened the throttle valve. The president also jumped upon the rear car, after the train started, as though he suspected the purpose of his disobedient father, and intended to defeat him. As the train went out of the station, Tom crawled over the tender, and took his place on the foot-board. “Tommy is rather rough on me,” said he, with his usual good-natured smile. “He is rough on almost everybody, and the roughest of all upon his own father,” I replied, as I let on more steam. “Fill up the furnace, Tom. We are behind time, and must make up ten minutes. We will make time as long as we are on the engine.” In a few moments the train was flying down the gentle slope, and, by the time we came to the up grade beyond, Tom had steam enough to do anything of which the engine was capable. I knew that Tommy was in one of the cars, and I wondered that he did not stop the train, as by this time he must be aware that his father had disobeyed and evaded his peremptory mandate. I could hardly keep from laughing when I thought of the magnate of Middleport, so haughty and unyielding to others, bowing so low to his own son. It was simply ridiculous, and very ludicrous. But I had little doubt of the ultimate fate of Tom Walton and myself. The world was upside down on our side of the lake, and the great man had virtually become the little man. I was not quite sure that Major Toppleton could help himself, after he had so often yielded to Tommy, and thus encouraged him to insist upon having his own way. After abandoning his fortress even once before, I did not see how he could hold it afterwards. But all this was a question between Tommy and his father, and they must fight it out themselves. My self-respect would not any longer allow me to be the victim of his petty tyranny. Yet I have no hesitation in saying that Tommy, if his wilfulness could have been subdued, would have been one of the best fellows in the world; and the sequel of my story will justify my belief. I had no difficulty in making up the ten minutes we had lost by the president’s unseasonable demonstration, and at a quarter to ten I stopped the train at the ferry landing. I confess that my heart beat a lively tattoo against my ribs, as I saw the passengers hastening into the boat, for I dreaded a scene with Tommy and his father. I would have avoided it if I could, for I had no taste for disturbances. But neither Tommy nor his father appeared at once.