"A wreck! Bless my soul!" exclaimed the man. "And I forgot to take out an accident policy. How unfortunate! I've traveled all my life," he went on, speaking to the two boys; "and never before did I go without an accident policy. I never was in a wreck yet, and now the first one that happens to me I have no insurance."
"But you don't need it," said Andy. "You're not hurt."
"How do you know?" asked the man quickly. "I may have a fractured liver for all you can tell. But if I have, I'll sue the railroad, even if I did forget to take out a policy. Oh bless my heart!"
Leaning heavily on Andy, he made his way out of the car. The old maid seemed capable of taking care of herself, but Billy went over to her and helped her to the door.
The parlor car conductor came running in, seemingly much excited:
"Any one here hurt?" he cried.
"I—I may be!" exclaimed the fussy old man. "I'm not sure yet—I'm going to have a doctor look me over, and I'll let you know later, conductor. And if I am hurt, I'll sue——"
"Oh, I guess you're not hurt much," murmured the conductor. "Any one else?"
"I don't believe anyone was seriously hurt in this car," spoke Billy. "They're all out but us, anyhow."
"I'm glad to hear it," was the rejoinder.