THE WRECK
What followed was like a terrible nightmare. Shaken and jolted badly,
but not seriously hurt, it took the girls a horrible minute or two to
realize what had happened. There had been an accident--a terrible
accident. Then hands went out in the blackness and the girls called to
each other in strangled whispers that could not be heard above the din
and uproar outside.
They heard Mr. Bradley shouting above the noise, asking if any one of
them was hurt and reassuring them. Gradually they managed to grope their
way to his side, guided by his voice, and with an agony of relief in his
heart he gathered the three girls to him and heard the voices of Mrs.
Gilligan and the boys at his elbow.
"Let's get out of this," he cried, and began feeling his way cautiously
toward what had been the front of the car.
He soon found the aisle blocked by what appeared to be the wreck of the
forward end of the car and was forced to turn back and feel his way
toward the rear platform.
Fortunately the train had not been crowded. There had been only three or
four passengers in that car besides themselves, and so there was little
danger of being trampled in the dark.
Fearfully, holding on to one another, the girls followed Mr. Bradley and
the boys, stepping gingerly over broken glass and other débris and
shivering with fear and excitement.
"I wonder if anybody was hurt," Laura cried into Billie's ear.
"Oh, I hope not," said Billie, her voice almost lost in the uproar. "I
guess it must have been the forward cars that caught the worst of it. We
just escaped." She shuddered and clasped Laura's hand more tightly.
It seemed ages before they finally reached the platform of the car.
However, even nightmares come to an end, and they were suddenly startled
by having a red light flashed in their faces. And then a friendly Irish
voice accosted them in unmistakable brogue.
"So it's here you are!" cried the voice, the speaker swinging the
lantern high so as to get a good look at them. "And it's glad Oi am to
be seein' ye. Be there any more in the car wid yez?"
"I don't think so," replied Mr. Bradley, surprised to find that his
voice was trembling and that the hand he raised to wipe his forehead
shook like a leaf. If it had been himself alone who had been in
danger--but the young folks!
As they descended to the platform the girls looked about them with wide,
frightened eyes, while their hearts pounded suffocatingly.
The faces of the boys were white, but they plunged immediately into the
work of rescue. Men came running from the farms about. All who could get
lanterns had them, and the lights were seen swinging down the roadside
or in the ruined cars, searching for any one who might be pinned under
the wreckage.
Most of the passengers had already been accounted for, but there were
one or two who must still be found. Mr. Bradley picked his way through
the débris to the front of the train, while Mrs. Gilligan and the girls
followed him slowly.
"I wonder how it happened," said Violet, and it was the first time she
had spoken since the accident. "Oh, girls, I'm frightened to death!"
"I wonder if anybody was hurt," said Laura, her eyes dark with
excitement.
"I don't think so," Billie answered. "The damage seems to be mostly at
the front of the train. We may have run into another train. Oh, look!"
she cried suddenly, pointing with trembling finger to the wreck of the
car in front of them. "Fire, girls! The car's on fire!"
With horrified eyes the girls followed her pointing finger and saw a
malignant tongue of flame shoot out--then another--and another.
"It's the baggage car!" screamed Laura, as men, attracted by the blaze,
came running from all directions. "Billie, your trunk!"
"My trunk! my trunk!" wailed Billie distractedly. "Oh, it will be burnt
up! All my money and everything!"
"Say, Chet, look! The baggage car's on fire!"
It was Teddy's voice, and Billie looked up to see him beside her staring
unbelievingly at the burning car.
"Oh, Teddy," she cried, clutching his arm desperately, "my trunk's
burning up! Can't you do something--can't you?"
Teddy gave a low whistle and kept on staring while Chet and Ferd came
rushing up and joined him.
"The trunk----" Chet began, but Teddy clutched his arm excitedly.
"Look!" he cried. "It's the front end of the car that's on fire. If we
climbed through the side door we'd have a chance to----"
He never finished the sentence, for the boys had caught the idea and
were racing headlong for the burning car. Mr. Bradley, meeting them half
way, literally had to drag them back.
"Don't be idiots!" he shouted to them. "Do you want to get burned up?"
"Let go, Dad!" gasped Chet, struggling to free himself. "Billie's
trunk!"
"Billie's trunk will have to take its chance," Mr. Bradley yelled back
at him. Then he added in a changed voice that made the boys stop
struggling for a moment and follow the direction of his gaze. "Here come
the fire engines. Maybe we'll save that trunk after all."
With a yell the boys dashed off down the platform to meet the engines,
whether with a vague idea of helping the horses pull or just on general
principles, no one will ever know.
The fire department was a country one, and there was not enough force of
water; in fact, there seemed not to be enough of anything.
They did at last succeed in putting out the fire, however, while the
girls stood by in an agony of suspense, and finally some of the train
hands were allowed to climb into the sodden train and find what luggage,
if any, could be saved.
Wildly hoping that their own particular little trunk with its precious
contents would be among the saved, the girls and boys would have
followed, but a guard politely but firmly held them back.
"Claim your baggage at the next town, please," he said, and, his hard
heart softened perhaps by the sight of Billie's anxious face, added by
way of explanation: "All the baggage will be sent to the next town to be
claimed in the morning."
"In the morning!" gasped Billie in consternation. "Have we got to wait
all night?"
"There won't be another train through till to-morrow," the guard
explained, still patiently. "And it will save confusion to wait until
morning to identify the baggage."
"How far is it to the next town?" inquired Mr. Bradley, and the guard
turned to him with an air of relief that said as plainly as words,
"Thank heaven, here's a man to talk to."
"Three miles, sir," he said. "I reckon you'll have to walk it, as they
haven't taxi service around here." He grinned, but Mr. Bradley's face
was sober. He was wondering how he was going to get his charges to the
next town.
However, even while he was wondering, the difficulty was being solved
for him by some of the good-natured farmers who generously put their
wagons at the disposal of the survivors of the wreck.
When they reached the village fate chose at last to smile upon them--a
very little. They found a comfortable little cottage presided over by a
comfortable little farmer's wife who first gave them supper and then led
them to the best rooms in her house and tucked the girls in bed as if
she had been their own mother.
Mrs. Jenkins, the farmer's wife, was as pretty and comely as a shining
red apple--and just as neat. She said that her husband had gone to a
neighboring town to sell some of their stock and would not be back for a
week or two. She was so lonely that her guests were as welcome to her as
she and her hospitality were welcome to them.
Yet in spite of comfortable beds and snowy sheets, the girls slept
little. All night long they tossed and turned, and when occasionally,
worn out, they would drop into an uncomfortable doze, they would always
wake up with a start and a frightened cry.
Visions of crushed cars with flames shooting from the windows tormented
them all night until at last, when it seemed they could stand it no
longer, they opened their eyes upon the dawn.
"Oh, girls, it's morning!" cried Billie, jumping out of bed and
beginning to drag her clothes on hastily.
"What are you going to do?" asked Violet, opening one sleepy eye.
"Do?" cried Billie, turning upon her like a little whirlwind. "What do
you suppose I'm going to do? I'm going to find that trunk!"