CHAPTER XII
THE MAN WHO LIMPED
Instantly the car was in confusion. Men and women, struggling to their feet from where they had been thrown by the impact of the blow, began rushing about hardly knowing what they were doing. One young lady raised a small hand bag, and was about to smash it through a window.
"Don't do that!" yelled Frank, racing toward her.
"But I must! I must!" she cried. "I want to get out! The place is on fire!"
"There is no fire!" shouted Frank. "You are in no danger in this car, but if you smash the glass you'll cut yourself!"
Even then the girl did not seem to comprehend. She looked at Frank with fear in her eyes, and once more raised the bag. Not until he grasped her wrist, and gently took the small satchel from her, did she seem to comprehend. Then he led her to a seat, for the chairs, strongly bolted to the floor of the car, had not torn loose.
"This car is not damaged a bit," went on Frank, in as calm tones as were possible under the circumstances. "You can see that both doors are in place, and you can get out that way, if you wish."
"Oh, indeed I do!" cried the girl. "Please take me out of here! Oh, what a wreck! But I'm glad you didn't let me break the glass."
"You would have been hurt if you had," said Frank. "As it is, you do not seem to be injured."
He looked her over critically. She was quite a pretty girl, aged about eighteen, and aside from a slight disorder of her hat and dress she was none the worse for the wreck.
"No, I am not hurt," she admitted. "I don't know why I wanted to smash that glass. It seemed that I was in some burning building and must get out that way. Oh, I wonder if any one is hurt?"
"I am afraid so," answered Frank gravely. "But all in this car seem to have escaped very luckily."
His brother was picking himself up from under a seat, and Billy, who had been hurled toward a passage leading to a private compartment, came limping back.
"Hurt?" asked Frank.
"Not much. Just a twisted ankle. How about you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Let's go outside and see what happened."
"Take me with you," pleaded the girl. "I can't bear to stay in here after that awful crash."
Frank looked to see his brother approaching and then he helped the girl along the aisle, as she was trembling from fright.
The maiden lady, for whom Andy had gotten the water, was getting up, and feeling of her curls as if to see if any were missing. They were all in place, and, after smoothing down her dress, she seemed more composed, though she was pale.
The old gentleman across the aisle from her, however, seemed dazed. He still sat on the floor of the car, with the water from the cup Andy had carried trickling down his face, and in one hand held his wig, which had slid off his shiny, bald pate. He was contemplating the mass of hair as if wondering whose it was, and where he had seen it before. Then he caught sight of Andy and a flood of red surged into his face.
"Here, you!" he called. "Help me up. You're responsible for this."
"Me responsible?" queried Andy in surprise.
"Yes. You were passing me with that cup of water when everything went to smash. Why did you do it? Answer me. I demand to know."
"Well," said Andy slowly, "I did spill the water on you—but I couldn't help it. The train stopped too suddenly. But I can't see how you make it out that I caused the wreck."
"Wreck? Is it a wreck? Oh, don't say that, young man!" pleaded the man, now taking a different tack. "I've always been in fear of a wreck. It can't be possible I'm in one now."
"Well, you're in one now, all right," went on the younger Racer lad; "though how bad it is I can't tell. Certainly this car didn't sustain much damage. I'm glad we took a parlor coach," he added to Billy. "They're heavier, and stand shocks better."
"That's right," agreed the Western lad.
"Oh dear me! A wreck!" exclaimed the old man. "Oh, will no one help me up. I—er—Oh, I beg your pardon, madam!" he said hastily, as he saw the maiden lady looking at him. "I do beg your pardon. Just one moment," and then hastily turning his back toward her he adjusted his wig on his bald head, and tried to get to his feet.
"We'll help you," said Andy, forgetting all about the changed valises.
"A wreck! Bless my soul!" exclaimed the man. "And I forgot to take out an accident policy. How unfortunate! I've traveled all my life," he went on, speaking to the two boys; "and never before did I go without an accident policy. I never was in a wreck yet, and now the first one that happens to me I have no insurance."
"But you don't need it," said Andy. "You're not hurt."
"How do you know?" asked the man quickly. "I may have a fractured liver for all you can tell. But if I have, I'll sue the railroad, even if I did forget to take out a policy. Oh bless my heart!"
Leaning heavily on Andy, he made his way out of the car. The old maid seemed capable of taking care of herself, but Billy went over to her and helped her to the door.
The parlor car conductor came running in, seemingly much excited:
"Any one here hurt?" he cried.
"I—I may be!" exclaimed the fussy old man. "I'm not sure yet—I'm going to have a doctor look me over, and I'll let you know later, conductor. And if I am hurt, I'll sue——"
"Oh, I guess you're not hurt much," murmured the conductor. "Any one else?"
"I don't believe anyone was seriously hurt in this car," spoke Billy. "They're all out but us, anyhow."
"I'm glad to hear it," was the rejoinder.
"Was it much of a wreck?" asked the Western lad.
"Yes, pretty bad. A switch was left open, and we ran onto a siding and into a train of box cars. They were not loaded, however, which made them easier for our engine to plow through."
"Many killed?"
"None, so far, though several are badly injured. Our engine climbed right on top of the freight cars."
"That must be a great sight," said Billy.
He helped the lady down the steps, and there she was taken in charge by a number of other ladies, who had gotten over their first fright, and had organized themselves into a sort of relief corps. Billy looked forward and saw a strange sight.
The passenger train, going at high speed, had run head-on into a string of empty box cars. The first two had been split lengthwise, and the pieces tossed aside. But the passenger engine had fairly climbed the third one, and had come to a stop reared up in the air like some mechanical monster charging an enemy.
"Some wreck, this!" exclaimed Billy. As he spoke he saw wreaths of smoke arising from the shattered cars.
"The wreck's caught fire," he thought. "From the coals of the boiler. I hope every one is out of the coaches!"
One or two of the passenger cars had been slightly smashed, and some were tossed from the rails. The parlor car, however, stayed on, as did the coaches back of it.
The engineer and firemen had jumped when they saw the crash coming, the engineer having put on the emergency air brakes, however, which locked the wheels. But the train had been going too fast to stop in time.
Billy saw Frank and Andy approaching, each of them having turned their charges over to others.
"Well, we got out of that lucky," said Frank, with a shake of his head as he looked at the burning wreck.
"I should say so," agreed Andy. "No more smash-ups for mine!"
"I wonder if everyone is out?" mused Billy. "Let's take a look."
As all about them was confusion, with half-frenzied men and women crying aloud, and with the injured ones moaning, the boys realized that no one might think of the helpless ones possibly imprisoned in the cars, that would soon be consumed by the flames.
As they approached the fire they saw a man leap from one of the forward coaches. At the sight of him, Billy exclaimed:
"There he is! I thought we'd left him behind!"
"Who?" asked Frank.
"That man—Shackmiller."
"That isn't he—at least he isn't the one who attacked you," declared Andy. "That man had a beard, and this one is smooth shaven."
"Yes, but look at his limp," said Billy in quiet tones. "He walks exactly like Shackmiller. He's followed me after all, and I've got to carry that paper with me. What shall I do?"
The Racer boys did not know how to answer him, and, indeed at that moment there was no chance, for, a second later, there came a terrific explosion, and the body of the man who limped was hurled toward them through the air.
A SECOND LATER THERE CAME A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION.
A SECOND LATER THERE CAME A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION.
A SECOND LATER THERE CAME A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION.