"There's a tool-house down the road a ways," continued the stout man.
"I noticed it as we rode past, a moment before we went over."
"Where?" asked Richard eagerly.
"On the other side, up the embankment," was the reply.
"I'll see if I can get something to work with," returned the boy. "Just
watch my baggage while I'm gone."
In an instant he was off, running as fast as possible. He found the
building just as it had been described. The door was open, and rushing
in, he confronted an Irish laborer, who was cleaning up some tools.
"The train has been wrecked, just below," he exclaimed hurriedly. "We
want some tools--an axe or a crowbar--something--quick!"
"Train wrecked?" repeated the man in astonishment.
"Yes,--just below." Richard picked up an axe and an iron bar.
"Bring some more tools with you!" he cried as he started to go. "It
may mean life or death!" Richard's earnest manner made an impression
upon the laborer, and in a few seconds the man was following the boy,
with his arms full of such implements as were handy.
Down at the wreck Richard found that one of the two men, a lean, sallow-
complexioned individual, had already been liberated, but the other was
still a prisoner.
"Just what we want!" cried one of the workers, as he took the axe from
the boy's hand.
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