CHAPTER XIV
FORWARD AGAIN
Getting the injured aboard the relief train was the first care of everyone, including the wrecking crew, that had come in response to the telegraphed appeal for aid. Tenderly the men and women, and one or two children, were carried into a car that had been temporarily converted into a hospital.
Several physicians had come on the relief train, and a number of trained nurses, so that those with hurts were assured of every attention.
"I'm afraid we'll have to operate on that man," Frank heard the physician who had been on the wrecked train say to one of the relief doctors.
"Which man is that?"
The first doctor pointed to Shackmiller, who was being carried into the hospital car.
"He has a fractured skull," went on the doctor who had made the first examination. "He's the worst hurt of the lot. It was a mighty lucky accident otherwise."
Two engines had come with the relief train, and also a big wrecking derrick. Now that the passengers—injured as well as those not hurt—were being looked after, the wrecking crew turned their attention to saving as much of the railroad property as possible.
By means of a switch, the empty freight cars were pulled away, so that no more of them, save those entangled in the locomotive, would burn. Then the passenger coaches were pulled out of the way, some of them having to be put back on the rails. Others were lifted to one side, as so much junk, for in a railroad wreck, after the saving of life, next in importance comes the "clearing of the line," so that traffic may not be held up any longer than necessary.
With as many of the cars cleared away as possible, the wrecking crew next attacked the fire. There was no water with which to fight it, but chemical extinguishers were used, and with long poles and axes the burning timbers were torn apart, so as to afford the flames less to feed on. In a remarkably short time, comparatively speaking, the scene of the wreck was much changed, and something like order was brought out of chaos.
"Get aboard! Get aboard the relief train, those who wish to go on to their destinations!" called the conductor.
"I guess that means us; doesn't it?" asked Andy.
"Sure it does," asserted Frank.
"Unless you're going to back out," added Billy.
"Not much!" exclaimed Frank. "We've started and we're going to see this thing through. We said we'd help you, and we will; eh, Andy?"
"That's what! We'll find out where the treasure of Golden Peak is, or know the reason why."
This was just the spirit the Racer boys always showed. Andy might be quick and impulsive, but he had something of the quiet determination of Frank, and together they made a "team" that was hard to beat.
All the injured having been made as comfortable as possible, the other passengers filed into the cars of the relief train, leaving the wrecking crew to do their work. By means of a freight switch the relief train could get back on the main track and pass around the wreck.
"Well, our baggage is all right," announced Frank, as he saw their trunks, among a number of others, taken from the smashed car and put aboard the other. "Now we must send word to father and mother that we are safe, so they won't worry."
"That's right," agreed Andy.
"As my uncle doesn't know just what train I'm coming on he won't be alarmed," said Billy, "so there is no need to send him word. But you fellows ought to wire home, for there'll be all sorts of newspaper stories of this smash."
The conductor readily undertook to forward any messages which passengers might wish to send, and the Racer boys filed theirs with him. Then the relief train left the sad scene, carrying many who had thankful hearts that it was no worse, for the escape of nearly all the passengers had been little short of miraculous.
"Well, we're on our way again," remarked Andy, as they made themselves comfortable in the car.
"And there is the little old lady, and the man whose valises you switched," said Frank. "But I guess the trick is spoiled, Andy, for neither of them seem to have any baggage."
This was true, the satchels of the pair having been missed in the confusion. The owners were too excited to notice it. Andy's plans had come to naught.
"Oh, well, I don't care," he said. "A joke would lose its flavor now, anyhow. I'll get a chance to play another before we reach the prairies, and if I don't, I can have some fun with the cowboys."
"You want to be careful about that," warned Billy. "A cowboy is a bad customer to play a joke on, unless he takes it in the right way. He's very likely to get back at you worse than you expect."
"Oh, I guess I can take care of myself," said Andy, airily.
"That's just like him," murmured Frank. "He'll get his good and plenty some day, and it'll teach him a lesson."
Little was talked of in the train save the recent accident. Some who had loved ones in the hospital car made frequent trips to it to learn how they were doing, and most of the reports were favorable.
"How's the man who was hurt in the boiler explosion?" asked Billy, as the doctor who had first attended the wounded ones came through their car.
"Not very well," was the grave answer. "We want to operate, but we can't risk it on the train. We are hoping for the best."
Almost unconsciously Billy put his hand in his pocket where he carried the valuable paper, and there was a look of relief on his face as he felt its folds.
The rescue train ran to the nearest station which, fortunately, happened to be in a city where there was a hospital. To this institution the worst of the injured were taken, others being sent to hotels. Those who wished to continue their journey were to be provided with accommodations on the next regular train, and our boys took advantage of this offer.
They delayed long enough, however, to receive a congratulatory message from Mr. and Mrs. Racer, and there was added a caution to be very careful in the future.
"Mother put that in, bless her heart!" said Andy, and though he spoke lightly there was a trace of tears in his voice.
"I—I wish I had one to send me a message," said Billy; and there was longing in his tones.
That night saw our heroes once more speeding to the West and in sleep they did their best to forget the harrowing experience through which they had passed that day.
"And we're leaving Shackmiller behind," said Billy. "I won't worry so much now."
"Well, we're making time," observed Frank, after breakfast the next morning. He looked out at the scenery speeding past. The rapid click of the rails told that indeed the engineer was sending his train ahead at high speed.
"I hope we don't hit anything," remarked Andy.
"Here! Drop that kind of talk!" exclaimed his brother, playfully punching him. "We've had enough of a hoodoo so far—don't mention it again."
Owing to the fact that they had to change to another railroad, they were obliged to spend several hours, the next day, in a large city. They took advantage of the stop to stroll about, and even go to a theatrical matinee, which effectively broke up the weariness of waiting.
"This beats boning away at Riverview Hall," said Andy, as they came out of the playhouse, and headed for the railroad station.
"Oh, school wasn't so bad," declared Frank. "We had good times there; didn't we Billy?"
"Sure we did. I'll never forget how you fellows threw a scare into me the night you had on the black beards. I sure did think Shackmiller and his gang had me cornered."
"And that was what made you act so frightened all the while?" asked Frank. "Fear of losing that paper you carry?"
"That was it. I'm not half as nervous as I was. By the way, I think I'll send my uncle a message."
"What about?" asked Andy.
"Oh, just to let him know we're on our way, and that Shackmiller has been left behind."
They filed into the nearest telegraph office, and Billy soon had the message written out. As he was paying for it, the operator remarked:
"Sageville, Kansas, eh? I don't often get messages for there. But this is the second one that has passed over the wires to-day for that place."
"It is?" exclaimed Billy. "Was the other one to my uncle?"
"I don't remember. I just remember the name Sageville. The message only passed through this office. It didn't originate here. It came from Northup, in Pennsylvania."
"Northup—Pennsylvania!" exclaimed Billy. "Why, that was where the relief train brought us after the wreck—where the injured were left. And a message went from there to Sageville, you say?"
"That's right," assented the operator. "Quite a coincidence."
"Can you tell me who the message was to, and who sent it?" asked Billy eagerly.
The agent shook his head.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm not allowed to give out any information like that."