He rubbed her temples and chafed her hands, but the task seemed hopeless.
He was about to abandon his efforts in despair, when an almost imperceptible sigh gladdened his heart and caused him to renew his exertions.
With his handkerchief he washed away the bloodstains, and found that she was only slightly cut just above the ear.
In a few moments she recovered consciousness and cast a bewildered glance around her.
She tried to raise herself, but with a little cry of pain she sank back in Dick’s arms and lay there staring up into his face and scarcely comprehending what he was doing for her.
Suddenly the fearful nature of the catastrophe dawned upon her mind, and clutching at the lad’s arm with one little hand, her other arm lying limp and helpless at her side, she raised up again.
“My father!” she cried with pathetic earnestness. “Where is he?”
“I saw him leave you and go into the next car before the crash came,” said Dick.
“He went to the smoking-car,” she moaned. “Perhaps—oh, perhaps he was——”
“If he reached the smoking-car, he is safe,” said Dick, encouragingly. “That car was not damaged. I can see it from here,” and the boy nodded his head in the direction where it stood on the track. “And I see your father now!” he exclaimed suddenly. “He is running this way. What is your name?”