wind that lashed George's face was filled with their fragrance. Once
or twice a tress of his companion's hair blew across his cheek, but she
did not appear to notice this. He thought she was conscious of little
beyond the thrill of speed.

At length the engine stopped where the line crossed a lake on a high
embankment. A long row of freight-cars stood near a break in the track
into which the rails ran down, and a faint cloud of steam rose from the
gap.

George helped the girl down, anticipating Edgar, who seemed anxious to
offer his assistance, and they walked forward until they could see into
the pit. It was nearly forty feet in depth, for the embankment,
softened by heavy rain, had slipped into the lake. In the bottom a
huge locomotive lay shattered and overturned, with half a dozen men
toiling about it. The girl stopped with a little gasp, for there was
something strangely impressive in the sight of the wreck.

"It's dreadful, isn't it?" she exclaimed.

Then the men who had come with them gathered round.

"Where's the fireman?" one of them asked. "He was too late when he
jumped. Have they got him out?"

"Guess not," said another. "See, they're trying to jack up the front
of her."

"Aren't you mistaken about the man?" George asked, looking at the first
speaker meaningly.