CHAPTER II

THE RAILROAD WRECK

The boys grabbed up their hats, raced down the steps, and along the street in the direction of the railroad. While they are on their way, the reader may care to ascertain a little more about the three chums, and something of their doings, which have been set forth in previous volumes of this series.

Jerry Hopkins was the son of a well-to-do widow, Bob Baker the offspring of a rich banker, while Ned Slade’s father owned a large department store.

The first volume of the series, entitled “The Motor Boys,” told how the lads took part in bicycle races, and how one of them won a fine motor cycle. They incurred the enmity of Noddy Nixon, a town bully, and his crony, Bill Berry. The chums had many experiences on their motor cycles, and in a race they won a fine touring automobile. Their adventures, and exciting ones they were, which followed the acquisition of the car, were told of in the second volume, “The Motor Boys Overland.” They went west to search for an old mine, of which a prospector they had befriended had told them. They found the claim, with the aid of Jim Nestor, though they had a close race with Noddy Nixon and Bill Berry to get formal possession.

On their western trip the boys had become acquainted with an old man, Professor Uriah Snodgrass, a naturalist, and he told them of an ancient buried city in Old Mexico. The boys resolved to search for it, and how they succeeded was set forth in the third volume, “The Motor Boys in Mexico.” They had several fights with the Mexicans and Bob was kidnapped, but escaped. The ancient city was found, very unexpectedly, as the auto sunk down through a concealed road and coursed along an underground passage. There many strange things occurred, including the discovery of the disappearing reservoir, and a valuable box of jewels.

The boys decided to visit their mine, on their way back to the United States, and it was a good thing they did, as it had fallen into the possession of the plotters, as related in “The Motor Boys Across the Plains.” An old hermit, who lived near a lake, proved to be the father of a boy the three chums rescued from a desperate gang and, later, the hermit was of much assistance in retaining possession of the mine for the motor boys, since he was one of the original prospectors.

The boys returned home after that. They had saved quite a sum of money from their share of the mine profits, and invested it in a fine motor boat, the _Dartaway_. As set forth in the fifth volume of the series, entitled “The Motor Boys Afloat,” the three chums transferred their energies to river and lake, and took part in races, foiled the plot Noddy Nixon laid, and solved the mystery of a strange schooner and the robbery of Mr. Slade’s store. They had an exciting chase after the thieves, rendering the police much assistance.

All their adventures took place during their school vacations. Now another one was at hand, and, naturally enough, the boys wanted to have as much fun as had fallen to their lot in the past. But, while they were racing to the railroad wreck, their minds were more on that than on what the summer might hold for them.

“I wonder if many are killed?” Bob said.

“Looks as though some were, as there goes the morgue wagon. There must be a number injured, too,” Jerry replied. “There go Dr. Bounce, Dr. Jones and Dr. Hardy,” and he pointed to the carriages of the three physicians. The medical men were urging their horses to a gallop.

Following the crowd the boys soon found themselves near the railroad, which swept up to Cresville in a long curve, after passing through a deep cut. It was in this cut where the wreck had occurred. The boys could see, from the top of a little hill, a great crowd gathered about the entrance to the gorge.

“Come on!” cried Ned. “Maybe we can help!”

It was a terrible sight that met the boys’ eyes as they entered the narrow cut. As they learned later a defective rail had caused the smash-up. The engine had jumped the track, and crashed into the rocky sides of the defile. The cars had piled on top of the locomotive, and there was a mass of wreckage.

Wheels and trucks were scattered about. The top of one car had been sliced off, and was resting on the coach in front of it. Another car was almost inside of another, and the smoker had mounted the engine tender, the wheels being buried in the coal and water tank.

Fortunately it was summer, and there was no fire in the cars, so the wreckage did not ignite. The coals from the engine boiler had started a small blaze, but this had been put out.

The train was a through one, not scheduled to stop at Cresville, and there had been comparatively few passengers aboard.

The rescuers were already at work. Several bodies had been carried from the wreck, and placed on beds made from the car seats. One or two silent forms, under shawls and blankets, told, better than words, that death had come swiftly to the unfortunates.

There were several badly injured, and it was to them that the physicians gave prompt attention. The majority of the hurt were women and children, though there were some men. Only the fact that travel was light, just preceding the annual vacation rush, prevented a terrible loss of life.

At first the boys did not know what to do to assist, though they felt they should help, as far as possible. They stood in the front of the crowd, which the railroad men were endeavoring to keep back, and looked on, their hearts palpitating with the terrible sights they witnessed. As they stood there Dr. Bounce, who had just finished bandaging up a man’s leg, came past. He knew the three boys, and, as he saw them, he called:

“Here, Jerry, you and your friends come in here and help me, will you? I’ve got my hands full. One of you carry my medicine case, and the others rummage around and get all the cloth you can for bandages. Tear up the sheets in the sleeper. That is the last car and didn’t smash up as badly as the others.”

Anxious to take part in the work, and glad to be called on by Dr. Bounce, the boys slipped through the cordon of railroad men, who, at a nod from the physician, let them pass, and followed the doctor.

Jerry took the medical man’s valise, containing its grim instruments and also the healing remedies, and the merciful chloroform to relieve pain. Ned and Bob found their way to the wrecked sleeper. No one was in it, and they got an axe and broke open some of the berths, which were jammed shut. They took out pillows, sheets and blankets, which willing hands soon distributed among the wounded.

The two boys tore the sheets into long strips that Dr. Bounce and the other physicians used to bind up the cuts and bruises of the wounded. As fast as the passengers were taken from the wreck they were put on improvised stretchers and carried out of the dark and gloomy gorge to the level land beyond, where the doctors could work over them.

Jerry was kept busy attending on Dr. Bounce, handing him this instrument or that, and pouring out the medicines under the physician’s directions.

The scene was one of confusion and terror. Cries and groans of the wounded mingled with the weeping of those who had lost loved ones in the crash. Then came the noise of axes, hammers and saws on wood, the implements being used to free some imprisoned victims, held down by heavy timbers.

It seemed that all were now rescued who could escape by their own efforts or be carried out by the workers. There only remained the possible dead under the wreck and those who might be held fast in it. The boys had a brief respite from their strenuous labors. They were standing together, hardly able to realize what they had seen and taken part in.

Suddenly a small boy rushed up to where the chums were standing. He seemed greatly excited.

“Come here, quick!” he called.

“What is it, Andy Rush?” asked Bob.

“Man--pinned under a big beam--groaning awful--makes me have the shivers--I tried to get him--couldn’t--head hurt I guess--come on--help me--we’ll save his life,” and finishing his usual disjointed and rapid-fire remarks Andy hurried off, followed by the three chums on the run.

He led them to the rear end of a telescoped car. There, pinned under a pile of seats, was a gray haired man, his white locks stained with blood. He was groaning feebly.

With a quick eye Jerry saw one particular plank that was holding the others like a wedge. He caught up a hammer and, with a few heavy blows, knocked the splintered timber out of place. Then he and the other boys were able to lift the man out. As they carried him to where the other wounded were lying on improvised cots, the wounded passenger murmured:

“Jess!--Jess!--Where are you? Jess! Jess!”