"What is the matter?" demanded Ruth, also scrambling to her feet.
A big touring car was approaching at top speed. They could see that the only person in it was a black-haired boy, who sat at the steering wheel.
He brought the machine to an abrupt stop before the gate, and leaped out. Tearing off his goggles as he ran, he approached the two girls in such a state of excitement that he could scarce speak coherently.
"Oh, Tom! what is it?" gasped Helen, seizing his arm with both hands.
It took but a single glance to discover the relationship between them. Twins never looked more alike—only Tom's features lacked the delicacy of outline which belonged to his sister.
"Tom!" cried Ruth, on the other side of the excited youth, "don't keep us on tenter-hooks. Surely nothing has happened to Jane Ann?"
"I don't know! They won't tell us much about it at the station," exclaimed the boy.
"There hasn't been a wreck?" demanded Ruth.
"Yes. At Applegate Crossing. And it is the train from the west that is in trouble with a freight. A rear-end collision, I understand."
"Suppose something has happened to the poor girl!" wailed Helen.