Vroon had escaped with only a slight cut on the hand from flying glass. He climbed over the chairs and passengers with a single object in view. He saw that all three he was interested in were insensible. He quickly examined them and saw that they had not received serious injuries. He had but little time. The countess and Norton would have to take their chance with the other passengers. Resolutely he stooped and lifted Florence in his arms and crawled out of the car with her. It was a difficult task, but he managed it. Outside, in the confusion, no one paid any attention to him. So he threw the unconscious girl over his shoulder and staggered on toward the road. It was fortunate that the accident had occurred where it did. Five miles beyond was the station marked for the arrest of Norton as an abductor and the taking in charge of Florence as a rebellious girl who had run away from her parents. If he could only reach the Swede's hut, where his confederates were in waiting, the game would then be his. After struggling along for half an hour a carriage was spied by Vroon, and he hailed it when it reached his side. "What's the trouble, mister?" asked the farmer. "A wreck on the railroad. My daughter is badly hurt. I must take her to the nearest village. How far is it?" "About three miles." "I'll give you twenty dollars for the use of that rig of yours." "Can't do it, mister." "But it's a case of humanity, sir!" indignantly. "You are refusing to aid the unfortunate." The farmer thought it over for a moment. "All right. You can have the buggy for twenty dollars. When you get to the village take the nag to Doc Sanders' livery. He'll know what to do." "Thank you. Help me in with her." Vroon drove away without the least intention of going toward the village. As a result, when Florence came to her senses she found herself surrounded by strange and ominous faces. At first she thought they had taken her from the wreck out of kindness; but when she saw the cold, impassive face of the man Vroon she closed her eyes and lay back in the chair. Well, ill and weak as she was, they should find that she was not without a certain strength. In the meantime Norton revived and looked about in vain for Florence. He searched among the crowd of terrified passengers, the hurt and the unharmed, but she was not to be found. He ran back to the countess and helped her out of the broken car. "Where is Florence?" she asked dazedly. "God knows! Here, come over and sit down by the fence till I see if there is a field telegraph."