Through accident or design, what is known as a "blind switch" had
been turned while the engine was shunting the accommodation car
about the yards. The result was that the car had left the rails,
bumped along on the ties for a distance, then had toppled over an
embankment that was some twenty feet high.
It seemed as if all in that ill-fated car must be killed or
maimed for life. A series of shrill blasts from the engine
called for help.
The crash had been heard all over the railroad yards.
Railroad men and circus men had rushed toward the spot where
the accommodation car had gone over the embankment, Mr. Sparling
among the number. He had just arrived at the yards when the
accident occurred.
Fortunately, the wrecking crew was ready for instant service,
and these men were rushed without an instant's delay to the
outskirts of the yard where the wreck had occurred.
However, ere the men got there a startling cry rose from hundreds
of 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 down
the bank, on the uphill side of the car, else he must have been
crushed to death.
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