Through the Air to the North Pole | Page 5

de stupenduousness conglomeration dat eber transcribed dis terresterial hemisphere!" exclaimed a stout, jolly looking colored man a few seconds after the crash of the wreck had ceased echoing.
"What is it, Washington?" asked a mild mannered elderly gentleman, with long flowing hair and beard, who, with the negro, had been walking in a field close to the railroad.
"I doan perzackly know, Perfessor, but it seems like there was a discontinuation ob de transportation facilities, when some sudden construction on de elongated tempestuousness attached to de railroad made de cars go bump! bump! Bang! Smack! Crash!"
"Washington! Washington! When will you stop using words that don't mean anything!" cried the old man, hurrying forward. "I presume you mean there has been a railroad wreck?"
"That's it, Perfessor. De extenuatin' circumstances ob transmigration--"
"That will do, Washington!" said the aged man, somewhat sternly. "You must stop talking, and act. This is no time for foolishness. There may be people hurt. Come along and let us see what we can do."
"Yes, sah!" replied the negro, calming down.
Then the two hurried down along the track, piled high with the debris of the runaway freight train.
"My! My! This is a terrible wreck!" cried the old man, as the two climbed over the mass of wreckage.
"Hi, Perfessor!" called the colored man, suddenly. "I've found something!"
"What is it, Washington?"
"It's a boy, an' he dead!"
"Oh, that's too bad!"
"An' heah's another, an' he's dead! Dis catafterme is de most--"
"Now, Washington, remember what I told you. No big words wanted at the present time. Where are the boys?"
"Here, Perfessor," and the negro showed the old man where Mark and Jack were lying, close together on a pile of sand. The professor bent over them. He felt of their hearts and listened to their breathing.
"Here!" he cried, suddenly. "They're not dead! They're only stunned! Maybe we can save them! Hurry, Washington, and carry them to my cabin. You take one and I will bring the other!"
"You don't need to carry any ob 'em," answered the colored man. "Dis chile is strong 'nuff, I reckon, to tote dem two boys," and, suiting the action to the words, he stooped down, put an arm around each of the prostrate forms and lifted one on each shoulder. "'Bout face! Forward march!" he cried.
With the old man following, the negro made his way along a path that led over the fields, until he came to a long and rather narrow shed built on the edge of the woods.
"Be sure no one is in sight before you go in!" cautioned the old man, as he opened the door, which was fastened with several padlocks. "It would never do to have my secret discovered now."
"Nobody in sight, master!" exclaimed the colored man, as he turned, with the two unconscious boys on his shoulders, and gazed about "De coast am clear."
"Then hurry inside and we will see what we can do for the poor lads. I fear they are seriously hurt."
The negro slipped in as the old man held the door open, hurriedly closing it afterward, and bolting it on the inside.
"Put them on my bed," went on the gray-haired man. "Then hurry back to the wreck! There may be more people hurt, whom you can aid. Don't stop to talk, but hurry back. I will see to the boys."
Not very willingly the negro left the shed. When he was gone, and the door was securely fastened after him, the old man went over to where Mark and Jack lay, both still unconscious.
"Poor lads!" sighed the old man. "I hope I can save them."
He went rapidly to work. Loosening the clothing of the boys he soon found that no bones were broken. Then from a medicine chest he took several bottles. In a tall glass, such as druggists use for mixing prescriptions, he put several liquids, and stirred the whole together. Then he moistened a little cotton in the preparation, and placed the white stuff under the noses of the lads, holding it in place with cloths. He had about completed this when a knock was heard at the door.
"Who is there?" he cried, starting up in alarm.
"Mr. Washington Jackson Alexander White," was the answer.
"Give the countersign!" demanded the old man, sternly, making no move to undo the bolts that held the door tight.
"De North Pole, an' long may it stand!" was the rather odd reply.
"Right! Enter!" said the professor, opening the door to give admittance to the colored man.
"Did you find any more victims of the wreck?" asked the old man.
"No, sah; Mr. Perfessor Amos Henderson, I did not," answered Washington.
"Just plain Professor will do," said Amos Henderson, quietly. "You needn't give my full name every time."
"All right, Perfessor," went on the colored man. "I didn't find no mo' pussons entangled in the distribution of debris. Dere was a lot ob