“What’s the matter?” asked Ned. “Is your hand hurt, Mr. Snodgrass?”
“Hand hurt? No. Why?”
“You’re not using it. Why do you hold it that funny way?”
“Funny way? I—er—bless my soul! It’s my collar button. I’ve been holding my collar button all this while. I started to put it in my shirt when I heard the call for help, and I guess I was so excited and absent-minded that I’ve been holding it ever since. I wondered why I couldn’t do more work, and all the while it was because I only used one hand. The other held the collar button. How stupid!”
He thrust the button into his pocket, while the boys could hardly restrain a smile. Then, with the professor’s two-handed aid, the sufferer on the seat was carried to the rear. He had fainted from a comparatively slight injury and was soon being cared for.
A little later, with all the wounded from the Limited on board, and all the other passengers squeezed in somehow, the Express backed up, went around the wreck by means of a switch, and headed for Denver.
The boys were beating the Limited, which they had missed, but they would reach the Western city considerably in the rear of Noddy Nixon for all that, since the Limited could not now pass the local train on which the bully and his cronies were riding.
“Well, it can’t be helped,” remarked Jerry, as he saw Mr. Montrose, whose little daughter they had rescued, caring for his wife. Gladys was happy with her injured doll.