“Yes. Hurry up,” answered Jack’s voice.
Allan threw on his clothes with trembling hands, and hastened down-stairs. He found Jack already at table, eating hastily.
“Set down,” said the latter, “an’ fill up. It’s mighty uncertain when ye’ll git another square meal.”
“We’re going out?” asked the boy. “Then there’s a wreck?”
“Yes, a wreck—freight, near Vinton. Th’ caller jest come fer me. It’s so bad all th’ section-gangs on this end ’r ordered out. Eat all y’ kin. Better drink some coffee, too. Y’ll need it.”
CHAPTER XI.
CLEARING THE TRACK
Allan did his best to force himself to eat, but the strangeness of the hour and the excitement of the promised adventure took all desire for food from him. He managed, however, to drink a cup of coffee, but his hands were trembling so with excitement he could scarcely hold the cup. It was a wreck, and a bad one. How terrible to lose a moment! He was eager to be off. But Jack knew from experience the value and need of food while it could be obtained, in view of what might be before them.
“It’ll take ’em some time t’ git’ th’ wreckin’-train ready,” he said. “Git our waterproofs, Mary.”
But Mary had them waiting, as well as a lot of sandwiches. She had been through such scenes before.
“There, stuff your pockets full,” she said to Allan. “You’ll want ’em.”