"That can't happen," retorted Diggory; "didn't you hear the man say there wasn't another till 5.47?"
"Yes," added Mugford; "but there might be a luggage, or one coming the other way."
"Well, all you'd have to do would be to cross over on to the other line."
Imperceptibly the boys quickened their pace until it became almost a trot.
"Hurrah!" cried Diggory, a few moments later, as a far-distant semicircle of daylight came into view. "There's the other end."
"Stop a minute," cried Jack, emboldened by the prospect of soon being once more in the fresh air; "let's see if we can make an echo."
The little party halted for a moment, but instead of hearing the shrill yell for the production of which Jack had just filled his lungs, their ears were greeted with a far more terrible sound, which caused their hearts to stop beating. There was, it seemed, a sudden boom, followed by a long, continuous roar. Diggory turned his head, to find the far-off patch of light replaced by a spark of fiery red, and the terrible truth flashed across his mind that in the excitement of the moment he could not remember for certain which was the down line.
It was well for the Triple Alliance that at least one of their number was blessed with the faculty of quick decision and prompt action, or the history of their friendship might have had a tragic ending.
Diggory wheeled round, and catching hold of Mugford, cried in a voice loud enough to be heard above the ever-increasing din, "Quick! get into the six-foot way, and lie down!"
What followed even those who underwent the experience could never clearly describe. They flung themselves upon the ground: there were the thundering roar of an earthquake, coupled with a deafening clatter, as though the whole place were falling about their ears, and a whirling hurricane of hot air and steam.