THE MISSING PASSENGER
AN endless corridor it seemed to Barbara Thurston as little by little
she dragged her drooping burden to the end of the aisle. Reaching the
narrow passage that led past the staterooms, she was obliged to creep on
hands and knees along the slippery lower side of the car.
Suddenly she heard a groan.
Bab glanced apprehensively at the curtains that hung over the door of
the smoking room. The curtains now stood out at a sharp angle. A thin
cloud of smoke filtered out from the smoking compartment.
"Oh, there's some one in there," exclaimed the girl. But she had other
work to do just then. The young woman struggled on, at last reaching the
platform that now stood in the air some feet above the track.
"Jump! We'll catch you," called a voice.
"I--I can't. Help me. My companion is hurt."
"She's got someone with her. Get up there," commanded a sharp voice.
Two trainmen clambered to the platform.
"Is the girl dead?" demanded one.
"I don't know. Oh, please hurry," begged Barbara in an agonized tone.
The men quickly lifted down Grace Carter's limp form. Then they turned
to assist Barbara, but she already had swung down without assistance.
Mollie was kneeling beside Grace, other passengers crowding about the
unconscious girl who lay stretched out on the ground beside the track.
Someone pushed through the crowd to Grace and thrust a bottle of
smelling salts under her nose.
This served to restore her to consciousness, and she feebly brushed the
bottle aside.
"She's alive," screamed Mollie, almost beside herself.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Barbara in an ecstacy of joy.
Grace Carter sat up dazedly.
"Are you hurt, dear?" urged Bab.
"I--I don't know. I think not. Oh, it was awful. I--I thought the world
surely was coming to an end. Was anyone--anyone killed?"
"No," answered a voice from the crowd. "Some of us got a fine shaking
up, but the train was running so slowly that the shock of the accident
was not very severe."
"What was the matter?" asked Grace as Barbara assisted the trembling
girl to her feet.
"The trainmen say it was a loose rail. They've been putting in new rails
at this point and the train was running slowly on that account, the work
not yet being entirely finished."
At this juncture the conductor came bustling up, ordering the passengers
to go to the cars ahead, which had not left the track. The train was to
move on in a few minutes. A flagman had been stationed some distance to
the rear to stop any following trains and the conductor was anxious to
reach the next station ahead to telegraph for a wrecking train and
report the wreck of the sleepers. A pleasant-faced woman whom Barbara
had seen on the train the day before, stepped up and offered to assist
them, which she did by placing an arm about Grace, helping to support
the latter in the walk to the cars.
"I am Miss Thompson, from Chicago," said the woman. "My father is with
me. I saw you yesterday and wanted to speak to you. Are you going to
Chicago?"
"Yes. You are very kind," answered Barbara.
"I wonder if all the passengers were gotten out of the sleeper?" asked
Miss Thompson when they had finally reached the cars up ahead and Grace
had been comfortably disposed of in another sleeper.
Barbara started.
"Oh, I forgot. Conductor! There was a man in the smoking compartment of
our car."
The porter who had followed them with the other passengers and such
luggage as he could find, shook his head.
"I know there was. I had forgotten all about it," declared Bab. "I heard
someone groan in there as I passed the compartment with my friend. Where
is the man who occupied the lower berth of section thirteen?"
No one had seen him. All the other passengers had been accounted for,
but no one had seen the tall, slim, sandy-haired man from section number
thirteen.
"Then he is in that smoking compartment. I saw him when he went there.
The compartment was on fire when I passed it," cried Barbara Thurston,
springing up, her face flushed, her eyes large and troubled.
"If there's anyone there the men will find him. There was no fire in
that car," said the conductor, with which statement the porter agreed.
"There was smoke," declared Bab. "I don't know about fire. I do know
that I'm going back to find out about that man," she announced.
"Come back," called the conductor. "We're going to start."
Unheeding, Barbara ran for the door, and, leaping from the platform,
started on a run back to the wrecked sleeper. The conductor was
determined to move his train, but the passengers objected so strenuously
that he reluctantly decided to wait and make a further hurried search of
the wrecked sleeper.
With a porter and half a dozen passengers the conductor followed
Barbara. She could smell the smoke before she reached the car. Hastily
climbing to the platform, she crawled in. By the time she had gotten
into the corridor a porter had also climbed up. The smoke was so thick
and suffocating that the girl choked and coughed.
"He's here," she cried, as a faint groan reached her ears. "Hurry! Oh,
do hurry!" Then Bab's words were lost in the fit of coughing that had
seized her.
Three men pushed their way into the smoking compartment. They saw that
the carpet was smouldering. It had probably been set on fire by a
burning cigar or a lighted match. There was no blaze, just a dull
smoulder and a lot of smoke. It did not seem possible that one could
live in that atmosphere for very long.
Suddenly the porter stumbled over the form of a man. It was the former
occupant of section number thirteen.
"Young woman, get out of here at once," commanded the conductor. "We
will take care of this man."
Bab staggered out to the platform, where she waited. A minute later the
men came out bearing the unconscious form of the stranger. Barbara asked
if he were dead. The men said no, but that he was half suffocated from
the smoke he had inhaled. They carried the man on ahead to the train and
up to the dining car, after which a doctor was hurriedly summoned from
one of the other cars. In the meantime Barbara had returned to her
companions, who were anxiously awaiting her reappearance. She told them
of finding the man, and was warmly commended by the passengers for her
bravery.
"I do wish we could get word to Ruth Stuart that we are all right," said
Barbara, after she had related the story of the finding of the man from
section thirteen.
"Ruth Stuart?" questioned Miss Thompson. "I wonder if by any chance she
could be related to Robert Stuart, a Chicago broker?"
"Why, she is his daughter. Do you know the Stuarts?" cried Barbara, a
smile lighting up her face still pale and somewhat drawn.
"No, but my father wishes to know Mr. Stuart. Only yesterday he was
speaking of him. I should not be surprised if he were to call on Mr.
Stuart soon to discuss a business matter with him."
"The world is small, after all, isn't it?" smiled Bab. "We are on our
way to Chicago to visit the Stuarts. We are friends of Ruth Stuart. We
four are known to our friends as the 'Automobile Girls.'"
The readers of this series must undoubtedly feel well acquainted with
that quartette of sweet, dainty, lovable girls, Ruth Stuart, Barbara and
Mollie Thurston and Grace Carter, who were met with in the first volume
of this series, "THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT NEWPORT." Their acquaintance
really dated from the time Barbara Thurston so pluckily stopped a team
of runaway horses driven by Ruth Stuart, a wealthy western girl, then
summering at Kingsbridge, the home of the Thurstons. A warm friendship
sprang up almost at once between the two girls, culminating in a long
trip in Ruth's automobile, during which journey Ruth, Bab and Mollie
Thurston, their friend Grace Carter, and their chaperon, Aunt Sallie
Stuart, met with many exciting adventures. It was on this eventful trip,
as will be recalled, that Barbara distinguished herself by causing the
arrest of a society jewel thief, at the same time heaping coals of fire
on the head of a girl cousin who had treated Barbara and Mollie with
scornful contempt.
The girls were next heard from in "THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS IN THE
BERKSHIRES," to which region, chaperoned, as always, by Ruth's Aunt
Sallie, they had driven in Ruth's car for a month's stay in a lonely
cabin in the Berkshire Hills. Their experiences with the "Ghost of Lost
Man's Trail" was not the least of their exciting adventures there; in
fact, their stay in the mountains was filled with a succession of
strange happenings that thrilled the girls as nothing in their lives
ever had done before.
By this time they considered themselves veteran automobilists and
seasoned travelers. As related in "THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS ALONG THE
HUDSON," the now famous quartette showed themselves fully equal to the
more than ordinary emergencies they met with from time to time on a most
eventful journey. From balking highwaymen to fighting a forest fire that
for a time threatened the ancestral home of Major Ten Eyck, whose guests
they were at the time, the "Automobile Girls" fully lived up to the
reputation they had earned for themselves.
After their trip through the Sleepy Hollow country, Ruth had returned to
her home in Chicago, while Mollie, Barbara and Grace had settled down
to their studies in the Kingsbridge High School. But with the approach
of the holidays had come Ruth's cordial invitation to spend Christmas
with her in her own home, not forgetting to mention "Mr. A. Bubble,"
who, she promised, would do his part toward making their visit a lively
one. The three girls had set out on their journey to the Windy City on
the Chicago Express, that journey having been interrupted in a most
unexpected manner, as already related.
* * * * *
The conductor sent off a message for them to Ruth Stuart at the next
stop. It was a characteristic message from Barbara, reading:
"Train wrecked. 'Automobile Girls' safe. Arrive
some time.
"GRACE, MOLLIE, BAB."
This telegram for a time created no little excitement in the Stuart
home.
Daylight was upon them by the time the train started from the scene of
the wreck. Grace said she felt as though she had contracted a severe
cold, for she was aching in every muscle of her body. Mollie declared
that she was all right, but Bab averred that she knew she hadn't been in
bed in a hundred years.
The dining car was opened early, for all the passengers felt the need of
something more sustaining than fright. When the girls came back from the
dining car they felt much better. Grace had suffered no serious
injuries, but Bab's face was scratched from the particles of broken
glass that had showered over her when the windows burst in.
A young man was occupying Barbara's seat when she entered the car they
had occupied since the accident. He was leaning back against the high
chair. His eyes were closed and a bandage was bound about his head.
"That's the man from number thirteen," whispered Barbara over her
shoulder to Mollie. He glanced up, met Barbara's eyes and smiled.
"I am very glad to see that you weren't seriously hurt," said Bab.
The young man rose, supporting himself by the back of the chair.
"Are these your seats?" he asked.
"Yes, but please do not disturb yourself," urged Bab, taking a seat
across the aisle. The young man leaned toward her.
"You are Miss Thurston, are you not?" he asked.
Barbara nodded, flushing a little.
"I have been told that I practically owe my life to you. The fire was
nothing but a smoulder of the carpet, but I was slowly being
asphyxiated. Thirty minutes more and it would have been all up with me.
Even had I been rescued too late to get this train it would have been
serious for me. My presence in Chicago to-day is imperative. I might say
that it involves my whole future. You see, my dear young lady, you have
done more for me than you perhaps realize. You are going to Chicago?"
"Yes; we are going on a visit to our friends, Mr. Robert Stuart and his
daughter."
"Robert Stuart!" exclaimed the young man. Then his face grew hard.
Suddenly the conversation that she had overheard the previous night
flashed into the mind of Barbara Thurston. The color left her face. The
young man's keen eyes observed her change of expression. He shot a sharp
glance of inquiry at her.
"I have a slight acquaintance with Mr. Stuart and his daughter," he said
coldly. "I also know intimate friends of theirs, Mr. and Mrs. Presby and
their daughter. Therefore I may have the pleasure of meeting you again.
I think perhaps I had better lie down and rest for the remainder of the
journey. By the way," he continued, after a slight hesitation, "did you
perchance discover a bundle of papers when you found me in the
compartment on the other car?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" exclaimed Bab. "I did find some papers. They
are in my bag. I picked them up from the floor of the car thinking they
might be of value to you."
Slightly confused, Barbara opened her bag, and after turning over its
contents drew forth a bundle of papers held together with rubber bands.
She handed the bundle to the young man.
The smile that lit up his face as he thanked her changed his expression
completely. It was almost a gentle smile, and seemed strangely out of
place on that cold, calculating face.
"Here is my card. I am rated as a cold, heartless man. But, my dear Miss
Thurston, I have at least one virtue--gratitude. If ever you are in need
of assistance in any way do not hesitate to call upon me," he said,
extending a hand to Barbara as he rose rather unsteadily to his feet.
Bab mechanically dropped the card into her bag without looking at it,
closing and dropping the bag on the floor beside her before accepting
the hand. The touch of the cold fingers of the man's hand sent a feeling
of dislike through her. It recalled to her mind more vividly than ever
the conversation she had overheard in the sleeper.
"I hope I never shall see him again," muttered Barbara, just as Miss
Thompson came smiling up to them. But Barbara Thurston was destined to
see the man whom she had rescued, though under circumstances that she
little dreamed of at the present moment.