"What's the matter?"
"An accident—let's get out!"
Before anyone could do anything, though, there was a terrific smash, and amid the wild tooting of a whistle could be heard the crashing and splintering of wood. Then the train came to a stop with a jerk that further scattered the frightened passengers.
"A smash-up!"
"A collision!"
"Oh, let's get out of here!"
No one could tell who was saying these things. They were shouted over and over again.
Russ Dalwood picked himself up from the floor of the car. A glance told him that no member of the company had been more than jarred or shaken, for their car was intact, and no windows were broken.
He helped Alice back to her seat, from which she had slid. Ruth had risen to her feet. Russ caught up his camera and made for the door.
"Oh, where are you going?" cried Alice, nervously clutching her leather purse. "Is any one hurt?"
"I don't know—I'm going to see," answered Russ. "And I'm going to film this smash. I may be able to get some good pictures for our newspaper service, Mr. Pertell," he added, as he hurried out.
