“My friend has hurt her arm,” Dorothy told the young man, who had already taken the trembling hand of Edna in his own firm grasp. “She fell against the arm of the seat.”
All eyes were upon them. Of course Tavia was whispering: “Wouldn’t be my luck! Just like Ned! Do you suppose he will need help to set it? I’ll get a glass of water—that’s safe,” and off she raced, making jolly remarks to the frightened ones, as she made her way to the water cooler.
“I’m afraid it is sprained,” said the man, holding Edna’s hand, “but I have some bandages in my grip.”
Tavia had returned with the glass of water before he found the bandages.
“I’m so sorry, Ned dear,” said Tavia truthfully. “I’m so sorry it is not my arm. Isn’t he handsome!”
Edna smiled, and Dorothy held the water to her lips. As the young man with the antiseptic cloth crossed the aisle Dorothy motioned Tavia to stand back and make room for the work to be done. Tavia stepped back, and just then the train gave one, single jerk.
The contents of Tavia’s glass of water went over the “Dutch neck” of Jean Faval.
“Oh, mercy!” screamed the girl.
Tavia recovered herself from the jerk and was just about to apologize when Amy Brooks rushed up to them.
“Whatever do you think, girls?” she blurted out. “The railroad bridge is down, and we can’t leave this spot to-night!”