CHAPTER XVII
LANKY'S LUCKY DAY
"There's a wreck up the road!"
"What?" cried Frank, looking at the blue-coated official in sudden horror and alarm as he said these words.
Poor Ralph could not utter a single sound. He stood there as if rooted to the spot, his face suddenly turning as white as chalk, and his eyes filled with an expression of mute agony.
"Everything tied up tighter than a drum. Going to put us all back for twenty-four hours, not to speak of the loss to the company," continued the railroad man.
"But—was it the train due here at two-twelve," Frank went on, determined to know the worst.
"Oh! no, nothing so bad as that. Just a couple of freights that thought they could pass each other on a single track. It ain't ever been done yet, but some fellers keep on trying. It's an awful smash, and the passenger train is held beyond. They're getting the wrecking crew to work, but it may be nine o'clock before that express comes in here."
A sigh behind him told Frank that his chum had experienced great relief. The suspense was to be prolonged, it seemed; but better a thousand times that than to hear of life being sacrificed.
"You say nothing happened to the express," continued Frank.