Chapter XV. The Coming of Jane

At sixteen-forty-five the Waring-Gaunt car was standing at the Melville Station awaiting the arrival of the train which was to bring Jane and her father, but no train was in sight. Larry, after inquiry at the wicket, announced that she was an hour late. How much more the agent, after the exasperating habit of railroad officials, could not say, nor could he assign any reason for the delay.

"Let me talk to him," said Nora impatiently. "I know Mr. Field."

Apparently the official reserve in which Mr. Field had wrapped himself was not proof against the smile which Nora flung at him through the wicket.

"We really cannot say how late she will be, Miss Nora. I may tell you, but we are not saying anything about it, that there has been an accident."

"An accident!" exclaimed Nora. "Why, we are expecting--"

"No, there is no one hurt. A freight has been derailed, and torn up the track a bit. The passenger train is held up just beyond Fairfield. It will be a couple of hours, perhaps three, before she arrives." At this point the telegraph instrument clicked. "Just a minute, Miss Nora, there may be something on the wire." With his fingers on the key he executed some mysterious prestidigitations, wrote down some words, and came to the wicket again. "Funny," he said, "it is a wire for you, Miss Nora."

Nora took the yellow slip and read: "Delayed by derailed freight. Time of arrival uncertain. Very sorry, Jane."

"What do you think of this?" cried Nora, carrying the telegram out to the car. "Isn't it perfectly exasperating? That takes off one of their nights."

"Where is the accident?" inquired Mrs. Waring-Gaunt.

"Just above Fairfield."

"Fairfield! The poor things! Jump in and we will be there in no time. It is not much further to Wolf Willow from Fairfield than from here. Hurry up, we must make time."

"Now, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, I know your driving. Just remember that I am an only son. I prefer using all four wheels on curves, please."

"Let her go," cried Nora.

And Mrs. Waring-Gaunt "let her go" at such speed that Larry declared he had time for only two perfectly deep breaths, one before they started, the other after they had pulled up beside the Pullman car at the scene of the wreck.

"Jane, Jane, Jane," yelled Larry, waving his hands wildly to a girl who was seen sitting beside a window reading. The girl looked up, sprang from her seat, and in a moment or two appeared on the platform. "Come on," yelled Larry. He climbed over a wire fence, and up the steep grade of the railroad embankment. Down sprang the girl, met him half way up the embankment, and gave him both her hands. "Jane, Jane," exclaimed Larry.