“Frank, you are certainly not in love with Mr. Garrison. Did he ever say anything to you?”
“Not a word. Only I don’t like his looks, that’s all.”
Further talk on this subject was cut off by Ruth, who chanced to look out of the bay window of the dining room.
“There goes the hospital ambulance,” she cried. “Somebody must be hurt.”
Frank, filled with curiosity, leaped up and ran to the front door, and then down to the gate.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked of a boy who was running past.
“Big accident on the railroad, down at Barber’s Cut,” answered the boy. “Freight train ran into the Philadelphia local, and about a dozen passengers have been killed or hurt.”
“The Philadelphia local!” echoed Frank, and for the moment his heart almost stopped beating. “Can father have been on that train?”
He ran back into the house and told his mother the news. Mrs. Hardy was almost prostrated, but quickly recovered.
“I will go down and see if your father is in that wreck,” she said. “Frank, you can go along.” And a moment later they set out for the scene of the disaster.