“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 railroad men dere, but dey wasn’t hurted.  Dey was lookin’ fer two boys what was ridin’ on de train when it went kersmash.”

“I hope you didn’t say anything about these lads, Washington.”

“Not one single disjointed word, Perfessor.  Dis chile knows when to persecute de essence ob quietude an’ silence.”

“There you go again!  How many times have I told you not to try and use big words, Washington?  Use simple language.  I take it you mean there were no others injured in the wreck?”

“Perzackly.”

“It is a miracle how these boys escaped instant death,” the old man went on.

“I reckon as how it were owin’ to de fack dat dey struck in a bank ob soft sand dat concussioned de fall,” explained Washington.

“You mean the soft sand saved them?”

“Dat’s de correctness ob it.”

“I think you are right,” the old man continued, as he fastened the door securely.  “The shock of the sudden stopping of the runaway train, as it reached the end of the siding and crashed into the bank, probably threw the lads up in the air, and they came down in the sliding sand where we found them.  Otherwise they would surely have been killed.  As it is they have had severe shocks.”

“Are dey goin’ to die, Perfessor?”

“I hope not, Washington, but I must see to them.”

Amos Henderson went over to the bed on which the two boys were stretched out, each with the piece of cotton soaked in the preparation over his mouth and nose.

“I am using a very powerful remedy,” the old man muttered.  “If they are not too badly hurt they will recover.  Ah, yes, there is a little color in their pale cheeks.”