"Perhaps he saw you in the streets yesterday—you were about a good deal, were you not?"
"Yes; that may be it."
"It does not matter much, anyhow; the fact remains that he went away last night."
"And I must go after him at once. That's what you mean?"
"That's part of it; but there is more to tell you, much more. For, this morning, about forty minutes ago—oh, I lost no time, you will perceive—one of my men who has to be on duty all night at my office, came to my house and woke me up. He was aware Russell was on board the Northern Pacific Express going to Winnipeg last night, and he had come hot-foot to show me an early edition of the Pioneer Press—that's our leading paper—in which there is a long account of a dreadful accident to this very express. It had collided with a freight train, both trains being wrecked and smashed to pieces. Many of the passengers have been killed, and most of the survivors are badly injured."
"And Russell?" Gilbert inquired breathlessly.
"He is not in the list of the dead; his name appears amongst those whose injuries are probably fatal. This is why I am hurrying you up. If you wish to see him alive, you must catch the first train. Now, do you see? Was not my knocking you up in this way justified?"
"Yes, indeed. I am grateful to you for your zeal. How far up the line was the accident?"
"A few miles south of Glyndon. You can be there in a comparatively short time."
"I think I should like you to come with me," said Gilbert, after a brief silence; "that is, if you are disengaged."