“What’s the matter? What happened?” scores of voices asked the railroad men, who, including the fireman and engineer, were examining the locomotive.
“Driving rod broke,” explained the conductor. “It threshed around like a flail, and smashed the cab, on the fireman’s side of the engine. Luckily he was putting on coal, or he’d been killed. Then the engineer threw on the emergency brake, and the front end of the baggage car crumpled up. Luckily it’s no worse. Has any one heard of any persons being hurt?” the conductor asked the crowd.
“I guess bruises and cuts from broken windows will be about the extent of the injuries, conductor,” replied a fat man. “But how long are we likely to be delayed here? I have an important engagement in Vailton to-day.”
“We’ll have to wait until we can telegraph for another engine,” replied the railroad man. “It will take several hours, I’m afraid.”
There were some expressions of dismay, but, in general, the crowd was thankful that it was no worse. The engineer and fireman were busy trying to get the bent driving rod loose from where it had jammed up somewhere in the interior of the locomotive.
“Let’s go back in our car, and look after our things,” proposed Bart. “We can’t do any good here, and it’s cold,” for they had rushed out without their overcoats. The other passengers were returning to their coaches by this time, leaving the problem of moving the train with the railroad men.
The four chums had been in their seats but a short time, having found their possessions somewhat scattered, but safe, when a brakeman came hurrying in. He hastened to the glass-fronted toolbox, fastened near the ceiling in the center of the car.
“I’ve got to get out that sledge-hammer, axe and saw,” he explained to a woman, who was sitting in the seat under the case. “May I ask you to move, madam?” She did so, and then the brakeman was in a quandary, for it was necessary to break the glass in order to get at the tools. The trainman looked about helplessly, for he had not been on the road long. Bart saw his difficulty.
“Here, I’ll break the glass,” volunteered the lad. “Stand back,” Bart produced the black, lucky stone which Jed had given him, and threw it through the glass front.
There was a crashing, splintering sound, and the glass was in fragments. The brakeman could get at the tools, which he quickly did, hurrying out with them.