PUTTING UP THE TENTS
After the first paralyzing shock of the crash the passengers seemed to come to their senses. Women who had been screaming ceased, and children stopped their frightened crying. Men began to gather themselves together, to crawl out from under seats where the sudden stop had thrown them, and prepared to leave the car.
“What’s the matter, conductor?” called Bart to that official, as he was hurrying out of the car.
“Don’t know—yet,” was the answer flung back over his shoulder.
“We’ll go see,” spoke Ned. “Anyhow, our car’s not smashed; that’s one good thing.”
“No, and it doesn’t seem to have left the track,” observed Frank. “Maybe we only hit an obstruction.”
By this time the four chums were out of their car, and they were followed by a number of men passengers. From other cars a like stream was pouring.
One glance sufficed to show that whatever the wreck was, it was not a terrible one, for there were no telescoped coaches, and, in fact, none seemed to have left the rails, while as for the engine that, too, seemed to be in its usual place at the head of the coaches. The crowd was moving toward the forward end, and thither Bart and his companions went. Matters were becoming quiet, and it was evident that no one was seriously hurt.
The boys found quite a throng around the engine, and they could now see that the cab, on one side, was splintered, and that the forward end of the coach next to the engine, which was the baggage car, was also damaged.