The old mule, which had caused all the trouble, was hitched up again and started ’round on his endless journey to put up the few hundreds of barrels of water that had been wasted. Tommy and Jack stretched themselves on the platform to encourage the mule and dry their clothes. CHAPTER V TOMMY’S REQUISITION “Ahn a winter’s mornin’ whin the wind was blowin’ At a staid an’ stiddy gai-at, Did a Kayre sit sail wud a kayrgo laden Out of siction siventy-eight.” U.P. BURNS stopped on the bridge and cocked his ear. He knew the song and the singer. It was U.P.’s day to walk the track, and he was now inspecting the bridge in an officious manner, not altogether pleasing to the young gentlemen who held themselves responsible for that structure--day and night. “Hay, there! ol’ flatobacker!” cried Tommy McGuire, from the top of a waving elm, “d’ yo’ know the trains are all over-due this morning?” “I know they’re all on time.” “I say they’re all over-due,” insisted the pump boy. “Well, what make ye tink so, Tommy?” “’Cause they bin out all night--ha, ha, ha--yo’le bum; that’s th’ time yo’ tuck th’ pin hook.” And Tommy climbed still higher to be out of reach of the rocks and sticks that the track-walker sent up after him. This was the day following the “cloud-burst” under the water tank: the morrow of the second night’s watch. Little Jack, thoroughly exhausted, was sleeping like a weary soldier, regardless of mosquitoes, heat, ticks, and red-ants. Tommy had filled the tank long before the sun came up over the tree-tops. The engineers, having heard of the struggles and hardships of the young railroaders, were taking water at Highland and Hagler’s whenever it was possible to do so, in order to save the water at Silver Creek. The stationary engineer at Highland and the mule at Hagler’s kicked, but it did no good. The sympathy of the whole division was with the agent’s _protégé_ at the tank, and the sad-faced little watchman in the red shanty down by the river. Tommy and Mary waited dinner for nearly an hour under the old elm that day. They waited until Tommy declared that he could eat his whiskers, if he had any to eat, and Jack was still asleep. At two o’clock the watchman came out, bathed his mosquito-bitten face in the river, had dinner--what was left of it--and declared himself ready to relieve his companion. But Tommy would not go to sleep. He flagged a work-train and went up to St. Jacobs. “I want yo’ to write a request to the roadmaster,” said Tommy. “Ah! Tommy,” said the agent, “a requisition for supplies so soon?” “Well, things got t’ be fixed up a little down there ’f we stay on d’ job.” “The Lord loveth a cheerful kicker,” said the agent, looking down upon his young friend. Seeing the agent with pen in hand, Tommy led off,-- “Screen door, an’ skeeter bar on d’ winder.” The agent wrote it as nearly as possible as Tommy gave the order. “That’s so Jack kin sleep daytime,” he explained. “Very well.”