The next instant he and Flash both were hurled violently from their feet. There was a deafening crash, and the car crumpled like an accordion, burying them beneath the debris.
CHAPTER III
A TRAIN WRECK
Flash lay stunned for several minutes, unable to comprehend that the train actually had been derailed. Screams of terror and moans of pain mingled with the shouted orders of the trainmen. The sounds came to him as if from a long distance away.
Dazedly he sat up, dragging himself from beneath a pile of twisted steel and splintered wood. Blood streamed from a gash in his head, but miraculously, he seemed to have suffered no serious injury.
In the gathering twilight he could see that every car had left the track. The engine, taking the baggage car with it, had rolled down a steep embankment. It lay on its side, belching steam like a wounded dragon.
Flash pulled himself to his feet and called hoarsely: “Joe! Joe!”
A moan of pain came from beneath a pile of debris almost at his feet. He saw an arm protruding from the wreckage. Frantically, he worked at a car seat which had wedged fast, and finally succeeded in lifting it off. Joe lay there, his face twisted in agony.
“Go easy,” he muttered. “My leg’s broken. And my insides are scrambled.”
Flash managed to get a supporting arm under Joe’s shoulders, but when he raised the man to a half-standing position, he crumpled back again.
“No use,” the cameraman moaned. “It’s broken. What a fix! Pictures to the right and left, and me with a busted leg and no camera! Leave me to die!”