Mrs. Thornton sank to her knees in an attitude of prayer, her head
dropped to her breast. The mother that had fainted roused a little and
called for her child.

The passengers rushed back and forth in a perfect frenzy, shouting, "The
baby! the baby!" Women cried and begged and implored some one to save it;
but it was all over before any one could act or before the Englishman
realized that it was his child that was in danger. The engines had
telescoped. The freight was derailed and the first three cars completely
demolished. The crew had all jumped and were uninjured, except the
fireman, who had a badly-broken leg and some bruises. Two men came around
the end of the Pullman with a boy supported between them. His head hung
limp and the blood trickled slowly from nasty cuts on his head and face.
Following them came the brakeman with a very frightened but unharmed
baby, wrapped in an overcoat. Every one made a rush for the little group.
The Englishman was first in line. His eyes opened wide and his cigar fell
from his lips. "By Jove, Chauncey!" he exclaimed, "they came near getting
you that time," then began to cry like a child.

The danger was past. There was no one killed, and only a few injured.
Several people were cut by broken glass and bruised by bumps. The fireman
of the freight had broken his leg and cut his shoulder badly in his jump.
Willis had reached the opposite platform, with the baby in his arms, just
as the trains collided. The jar had thrown him from his feet and broken
the glass in the door behind him. The jolt threw him, baby and all, out
against the side of the cut into the wet sand. Outside of the ugly cuts
and bad bruises he was unharmed, but was the hero of the day.

Mrs. Thornton sat by her boy, tenderly caring for his every need. He had