"She's dead," I whispered, while an awful feeling came over me. Her eyes were closed and she didn't move, even after we had lifted the timbers away. We dragged her out as gently as we could and laid her on a couple of car seats which we took from the train. I sprinkled some water in her face and pretty soon she opened her eyes. She stared around for a second or two, trying to understand where she was. Then she saw Skinny and seemed to remember. "Mary!" said she. "Have you seen Mary? Oh, save my little girl!" "Mary's all right," Skinny told her. "We haven't got her out yet, but we know just where she is. She sent us to find you." "Thank God!" she whispered, and then she fainted again. We left her there, lying among the stones on the river bottom, with her dress floating in the water. "I wish Mr. Norton was here," groaned Skinny. "I don't know what to do. Here comes Benny with the things." There wasn't any time to talk. We hurried back to where we could see Mary's head sticking out of the wreck. She had her eyes closed, and I thought she had fainted, but she heard us come up and opened them. "We've got your mother out," Skinny said. "Now we'll get you out." Her eyes asked the question which her lips couldn't seem to do. "Yes, she's alive," we told her. "She's got an ugly cut on her head, but she seems all right except that." It was all we could do to get her out, the timbers were so heavy and so wedged in. They had fallen across each other and made sort of a roof over her. If it hadn't been for that she would have been killed. By all pulling on the rope and cutting some with the hatchet, we finally managed to get her loose. When we started to lift her out she screamed with pain. We kept on lifting. There was no other way. "It's my foot," she moaned. "It feels as if it was all broken to pieces." Two of us made a chair with our hands and carried her carefully up on the river bank; then hurried back to the wreck. "There is a man groaning somewhere," said Bill. "I think it must be the conductor." We found him lying under some wreckage and in great pain. "Where are you hurt?" we asked, when we had lifted the wreck off from him. "My leg!" he groaned. "It's broken. I'm all in." I took out my knife and ripped his trouser leg and underclothes to above the spot that hurt him, a little above the knee. Then, by putting one hand above the break and the other below it, just as Mr. Norton had made us practise doing a lot of times, and lifting very gently I could see the broken bone move. He ground his teeth together and great drops of sweat came out on his forehead, it hurt him so much, although I was trying to be careful. "It's broken, all right," I told him. "We've sent for help. The only thing to do is to lie still and wait." We straightened him out and piled some coats and things, which we found in the wreck, around his leg, to make him as comfortable as we could. "How many are there?" I asked.