Margery shivered with apprehension while beads of perspiration
stood out on her forehead. She was staring in terror at the onrushing car.
"Oh!" she shuddered. "There'll surely be a collision."
"Look! The chauffeur doesn't see the train on account of the dust. Don't
you see the dust rising in the road ahead of the automobile? The wind is
blowing it up ahead and the machine is kicking it up behind. Hoo-oo!
Hoo-oo!" cried the girl, frantically waving her handkerchief to attract
the attention of the driver of the car, at the same time pointing to the
rapidly approaching train.
Instead of slackening speed, the driver of the motor car appeared to be
putting on more. The car was rapidly nearing the railroad crossing. So was
the train.
"Oh, I can't look at it," cried Margery, throwing herself on the ground
and burying her face in her arms.
Hazel stood perfectly rigid. She scarcely breathed. Her eyes were wide and
staring.
"Ha--as it hap-p-pened?" faltered Margery.
"No-o-o. Oh! The driver is going to be killed! Oh, oh!"
For one awful second the motor car and engine of the special were
swallowed up in a cloud of dust, then out of the cloud darted the
locomotive on one side. On the other dashed the automobile, still on four
wheels, continuing at the same reckless speed along the highway.
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