“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going back in there to look for your father!”
“The cars are burning!”
But Frank heeded this not the least. Thrusting Inza upon her brother, he sprang up and turned toward the wreck.
One of the trainmen saw Merry’s movement, saw the grim look of determination on his white face and the glare in his eyes. He grasped Frank, demanding;
“What’re you goin’ to do, young feller? Don’t get crazy!”
Frank grasped the man’s wrists and flung him off, sending him reeling. Then he crouched and plunged headlong through the very opening by which he had escaped from the wreckage.
“Mad as a March hare!” gasped the trainman. “He’ll roast in there, for the whole thing will be a roaring bonfire in less than five minutes! He’s a goner!”
Inza had watched him, and now she was seized by a frightful terror lest he had indeed gone to his death. He had called her sweetheart again as of old! He had held her clasped in his strong arms! She had seen the old love-light in his eyes! And now he was gone!
“Walter,” she sobbed, “he’ll not come back! Look! See the fire! He will be burned to death!”