"Was it much of a wreck?" asked the Western lad.
"Yes, pretty bad. A switch was left open, and we ran onto a siding and into a train of box cars. They were not loaded, however, which made them easier for our engine to plow through."
"Many killed?"
"None, so far, though several are badly injured. Our engine climbed right on top of the freight cars."
"That must be a great sight," said Billy.
He helped the lady down the steps, and there she was taken in charge by a number of other ladies, who had gotten over their first fright, and had organized themselves into a sort of relief corps. Billy looked forward and saw a strange sight.
The passenger train, going at high speed, had run head-on into a string of empty box cars. The first two had been split lengthwise, and the pieces tossed aside. But the passenger engine had fairly climbed the third one, and had come to a stop reared up in the air like some mechanical monster charging an enemy.
"Some wreck, this!" exclaimed Billy. As he spoke he saw wreaths of smoke arising from the shattered cars.
"The wreck's caught fire," he thought. "From the coals of the boiler. I hope every one is out of the coaches!"
One or two of the passenger cars had been slightly smashed, and some were tossed from the rails. The parlor car, however, stayed on, as did the coaches back of it.