“All we can do is to just sit still and hope for aid, and that it will come in time,” said Mrs. Calvert.
“I’m afraid that’s all, except to be thankful that we were not killed,” suggested Mr. Ludlow.
The exact idea of their position was finally grasped by all, and everyone breathed a little prayer for having been saved so miraculously. They all quieted down and prepared to sit there and wait, and hope for the arrival of a train bringing aid. An hour and a half, so they had been told, and that hour and a half seemed the longest hour and a half that most of them had ever experienced.
Finally they heard a shout from one of the brakemen, a glad shout, a joyous sign, they thought, and then the conductor came through and announced, “Sir, a small repair train has just come up to us. They sent it out very promptly, as they thought that we might be in even more serious need than we are.”
“Can it take us back, then?” asked Mr. Ludlow, and the rest of the company sighed in relief, because they now knew that they were safe and would eventually be pulled out of their present position.
“It can take back two cars, sir,” answered the conductor, “and would you object, sir, if I put some other passengers in here with you?”
“Not at all,” answered Mr. Ludlow. “Bring in as many as you wish. We will be only too glad to have them.”
The conductor departed, returning in a little time, accompanied by about a dozen women and half as many small children, saying, “I brought the women and young ones, as I thought that they would be more comfortable in here.”
Dorothy and Ruth, alert and interested, forgot their own discomfort in rendering aid to others, anxious and in distress.