CHAPTER XXI
WHEN THE CRASH CAME
There was rejoicing on the part of his fellows, and relief inthe heart of Mr. Sparling when, along toward noon next day,Phil Forrest came strolling on the circus lot at St. Joseph.
His friends, the farmers, had not only given him food andlodging, but had advanced him enough money for his fare throughto join the show. His first duty was to get some money fromMr. Sparling and send it back to his benefactors.
This done, Phil repaired to the owner's tent where he knew Mr.Sparling was anxiously waiting to hear what had happened to him.
Phil went over the circumstances in detail, while Mr. Sparlinglistened gravely at first, then with rising color as hisanger increased.
"It's Red Larry!" decided Mr. Sparling, with an emphasizing blowof his fist on the desk before him.
"After I thought the matter over that was what I decided--I meanthat was the decision I came to."
"Right. Another season I'll have an officer with this show.That's the only way we can protect ourselves."
"Do all the big shows carry an officer?" asked Phil.
"Yes; they have a detective with them--not a tin badge detective,but a real one. Don't try to go out today. Get your dinner andrest up for the afternoon performance. I think you had better goto the train in my carriage tonight. I'm not going to take anymore such chances with you."
"I'll look out for myself after this, Mr. Sparling," laughedPhil."I think it was only two days ago that I said I wasn't afraid ofLarry--that he couldn't get me. But he did."
That afternoon, as Phil related his experiences to the dressingtent, he included the barnyard circus, which set the performersin a roar.
Phil felt a little sore and stiff after his knockout and hislong ride in the freight car; but, after taking half an hour ofbending exercises in the paddock, he felt himself fit to go onwith his ring and bareback acts.
Both his acts passed off successfully, as did the Grand Entry inwhich he rode old Emperor.
That night, after the performance, Phil hurried to the train,but kept a weather eye out that he might not be assaulted again.He found himself hungry, and, repairing to the accommodation carfor a lunch, discovered Teddy stowing away food at a great rate.
"So you're here, are you?" laughed Phil.
"Yep; I live here most of the time," grinned Teddy. "They liketo have me eat here. I'm a sort of nest egg, you know. It makesthe others hungry to see me eat, and they file in in aperfect procession. How's your head?"
"Still a size too large," answered Phil, sinking down on a stooland ordering a sandwich.
As the lads ate and talked two or three other performers came in,whereupon the conversation became more general.
All at once there came a bang as a switching engine bumped intothe rear of their car. Teddy about to pass a cup of steamingcoffee to his lips, spilled most of it down his neck.
"Ouch!" he yelled, springing up, dancing about the floor,holding his clothes as far from his body as possible. "Here, youquit that!" he yelled, poking his head out of a window. "If youdo that again I'll trim you with a pitcher of coffee and see howyou like that."
Bang!
Once more the engine smashed into them, having failed to make thecoupling the first time.
Teddy sat down heavily in the middle of the car, just as LittleDimples tripped in. In one hand he held a sandwich halfconsumed, while with the other he was still stretching his collaras far from his neck as it would go.
"Why, Teddy," exclaimed Dimples, "what are you doing on thefloor?"
"Eating my lunch. Always eat it sitting on the floor, you know,"growled the boy, at which there was a roar from the others.
"What are they trying to do out there?" questioned Phil.
"Going to shift us about on another track, I guess. I was nearlythrown down when I tried to get on the platform. I never saw aroad where they were so rough. Did you?"
"Yes; I rode on one the other night that could beat this,"grinned Phil.
A few minutes later the car got under motion, pushed by aswitching engine, and began banging along merrily over switches,tearing through the yard at high speed.
"We seem to be in a hurry 'bout something," grunted Teddy."Maybe they've hooked us on the wrong train, and we're bound forsomewhere else."
"No, I don't think so," replied Phil. "You should be used tothis sort of thing by this time."
"I don't care as long as the food holds out. It doesn't make anydifference where they take us."
"What section does this car go out on tonight, steward?"questioned Phil.
"The last. Goes out with the sleepers."
"That explains it. They are shifting us around, making up thelast section and to get us out of the way of section No. 2.I never can keep these trains straight in my mind, they changethem so frequently. But it's better than riding in a canvaswagon over a rough country road, isn't it, Teddy?"
"Worse," grunted the lad. "You never know when you're going toget your everlasting bump, and you don't have any net to fall inwhen you do. Hey, they're at it again!"
His words were almost prophetic.
There followed a sudden jolt, a deafening crash, accompanied bycries from the cooks and waiters at the far end of the car.
"Get a net!" howled Teddy.
"We're off the rails," cried the performers.
"Look out for yourselves!"
Little Dimples was hurled from her stool at the lunch counter,and launched straight toward a window from which the glass wasshowering into the car.
Phil made a spring, catching her in his arms. But the impactand the jolt were too much for him. He went down in a heap,Little Dimples falling half over him.
He made a desperate grab for her, but the woman's skirtsslipped through his hand and she plunged on toward the far endof the car.
"Look out for the coffee boiler."
A yell from a waiter told them that the warning had cometoo late. The man had gotten a large part of the contentsof the boiler over him.
But all at once those in the car began to realize that somethingelse was occurring. Somehow, they could feel the accommodationcar wavering as if on the brink of a precipice. Then it began tosettle slowly and the mystified performers and car hands thoughtit was going to rest where it was on the ties.
Instead, the car took a sudden lurch.
"We're going over something!" cried a voice.
Phil, who had scrambled quickly to his feet, half-dazed from thefall, stood irresolutely for a few seconds then began making hisway toward where Little Dimples had fallen.
At that moment young Forrest was hurled with great force againstthe side of the car. Everything in the car seemed suddenly tohave become the center of a miniature cyclone. Dishes, cookingutensils, tables and chairs were flying through the air, thenoise within the car accompanied by a sickening, grinding seriesof crashes from without.
Groans were already distinguishable above the deafening crashes.
Those who were able to think realized that the accommodation carwas falling over an embankment of some sort.
Through accident or design, what is known as a "blind switch" hadbeen turned while the engine was shunting the accommodation carabout the yards. The result was that the car had left the rails,bumped along on the ties for a distance, then had toppled over anembankment that was some twenty feet high.
It seemed as if all in that ill-fated car must be killed ormaimed for life. A series of shrill blasts from the enginecalled for help.
The crash had been heard all over the railroad yards.Railroad men and circus men had rushed toward the spot wherethe accommodation car had gone over the embankment, Mr. Sparlingamong the number. He had just arrived at the yards when theaccident occurred.
Fortunately, the wrecking crew was ready for instant service,and these men were rushed without an instant's delay to theoutskirts of the yard where the wreck had occurred.
However, ere the men got there a startling cry rose f
rom hundredsof throats.
"Fire! The car is on fire!"
"Break in the doors! Smash the sides in!"
Yet no one seemed to have the presence of mind to do anything.Phil had been hurled through a broken widow, landing halfway downthe bank, on the uphill side of the car, else he must have beencrushed to death. But so thoroughly dazed was he that he wasunable to move.
Finally someone discovered him and picked him up.
"Here's one of them," announced a bystander. "It's a kid, too."
Mr. Sparling came charging down the bank.
"Who is it? Where is he?" he bellowed.
"Here."
"It's Phil Forrest," cried one of the showmen, recognizing thelad, whose face was streaked where it had been cut by the jaggedglass in the broken window.
"Is he killed?"
"No; he's alive. He's coming around now."
Phil sat up and rubbed his eyes.
All at once he understood what had happened. He staggered to hisfeet holding to a man standing beside him.
"Why don't you do something?" cried Phil. "Don't you know thereare people in that car?"
"It's burning up. Nobody dares get in till the wreckers can gethere and smash in the side of the car," was the answer.
"What?" fairly screamed Phil Forrest. "Nobody dares go inthat car? Somebody does dare!"
"Come back, come back, Phil! You can't do anything," shouted afellow performer.
But the lad did not even hear him. He was leaping, fallingand rolling down the bank, regardless of the danger that he wasapproaching, for the flames already showed through a broken spotin the roof of the car, which was lying half on its side at thefoot of the embankment.
Without an instant's hesitation Phil, as he came up alongside,raised a foot, smashing out the remaining pieces of glass ina window. Then he plunged in head first.
The spectators groaned.
"Dimples! Dimples!" he shouted. "Are you alive?"
"Yes, here. Be quick! I'm pinned down!"
Phil rushed to her assistance. Her legs were pinioned beneatha heavy timber. Phil attacked it desperately, tugging andgrunting, the perspiration rolling down his face, for the heatin there was now almost more than he could bear.
With a mighty effort he wrenched the timber from the prostratewoman, then quickly gathered her up in his arms.
"I knew you'd come, Phil, if you were alive," she breathed,her head resting on his shoulder.
"Do you know where Teddy is?" he asked, plunging through theblinding smoke to the window where voices already were callingto him.
"At the other end--I think," she choked.
The lad passed her out to waiting arms.
"Come out! Come out of that!" bellowed the stentorian voice ofMr. Sparling. But Phil had turned back.
"Teddy!" he called, the words choked back into his throat by thesuffocating smoke.
"Wow! Get me out of here. I'm--I'm," then the lad went off intoa violent fit of coughing.
By this time two others, braver than the rest, had climbed inthrough the window.
"Where are they all?" called a voice.
"I don't know. You'll have to hunt for them. I'm after you,Teddy.Are you held down by something, too?"
"The whole car's on me, and I'm burning up."
Phil, guided by the boy's voice, groped his way along and soonfound his hands gripped by those of his little companion.
"Where are you fast?"
"My feet!"
It proved an easy matter to liberate Teddy and drag him to thewindow, where Phil dumped him out.
Mr. Sparling had climbed in by this time, and the wrecking crewwere thundering at the roof to let the smoke and flames out,while others had crawled in with their fire extinguishers.
There were now quite a number of brave men in the car all workingwith desperate haste to rescue the imprisoned circus people.
"All out!" bellowed the foreman of the wrecking crew. "The roofwill be down in a minute!"
"All out!" roared Mr. Sparling, himself making a dash fora window.
Others piled out with a rush, the flames gaining very rapidheadway now.
"Phil! Phil! Where's Forrest?" called Mr. Sparling.
"He isn't here. Maybe--"
"Then he's in that car. He'll be burned alive! No one can livefive minutes in there now!"
The fire department had arrived on the scene, and the men wererunning two lines of hose over the tracks.
"Phil in there?"
It was a howl--a startled howl rather than a spoken question.The voice belonged to Teddy Tucker.
Teddy rushed through the crowd, pushing obstructors aside,and hurled himself through the window into the burning car.He looked more like a big, round ball than anything else.
No sooner had Tucker landed fairly inside than he uttered a yell.
"Phil!"
There was no answer.
"Where--"
Teddy went down like a flash, bowled over by a heavy stream ofwater from the firemen's hose.
As it chanced he fell prone across a heap of some sort,choking and growling with rage at what had befallen him.
"Phil!"
"Yes," answered a voice from the heap.
"I've got him!" howled Teddy, springing up and dragging thehalf-dazed Phil Forrest to the window. There both boys werehauled out, Teddy and Phil collapsing on the embankment fromthe smoke that they had inhaled.
"Phil! Teddy!" begged Mr. Sparling, throwing himselfbeside them.
"Get a net!" muttered Teddy, then swooned.