Chapter 4 The Message in the Hollow Oak by Carolyn Keene
A Train Wreck
Mrs. Donnelly ordered her berth made up shortly after she boarded the train. Nancy and her chums were far too excited to sleep, however. They wandered into the observation car, where they interested themselves with various magazines and newspapers.
Soon Nancy became absorbed in a fascinating story entitled “The Vital Hour,” but casually glanced up from her reading as a distinguished-looking woman of about thirty-five entered the car, and took a seat near by.
“I see you are reading one of my stories,” the newcomer presently remarked.
Nancy looked up with interest.
“Then your name is——”
“That particular story is published under a nom de plume. As a rule I use my own name, Ann Chapelle.”
Nancy stared.
“You’re not Ann Chapelle who wrote the story for the Velvet Hour?”
“Yes, I am,” the other smiled.
“Why, I follow them all over the radio! If it hadn’t been for you, I shouldn’t be on this train now. You see, I won the mystery story title contest and am on my way to Wellington Lake, Canada, to look over the piece of property which I was awarded.”
It was Miss Chapelle’s turn to be astonished.
“Then you must be Nancy Drew! I knew your title had been selected, but I never dreamed I’d ever meet you in person.”
“Do you expect to write another radio skit soon?” Nancy inquired hopefully.
“Not for some time, I imagine. I am now busy with a novel, and my movie contracts keep me occupied steadily.”
“Then you write scenarios, too?”
“Yes, that is the type of work I like best.”
“You must know many of the famous actors and actresses.”
“I do,” Miss Chapelle acknowledged. “However, I must confess I attend but few parties. I don’t care a great deal for social activities.”
The woman lapsed into a moody silence which Nancy hesitated to interrupt. She suspected that Miss Chapelle had some secret sorrow about which the public knew nothing. Despite her interesting life, the young writer seemed to be very unhappy.
“I hope you will find time to read my latest novel when it is published,” Miss Chapelle remarked a few minutes later. “But then, I may decide not to bring it out after all, for it is too revealing. It follows very minutely the unhappy pattern of my own life.”
Nancy was on the point of asking a question, but the words died upon her lips, for suddenly there came a shrill whistle from the train engine, followed by a terrific crash. Nancy was flung headlong from her seat. Splintered boards, battered furniture and debris descended upon her.
For a moment the girl was too stunned to move. Then, as she squirmed to a sitting position she became aware of a sharp pain in her arm. Carefully she moved it, relieved to discover that it had not been broken. A trickle of blood oozed from a cut in her forehead.
All about her she could hear people groaning. The first panic-stricken screams of the passengers had died away; cries of suffering had taken their place.
The Drew girl staggered to her feet, looking about her for Bess and George. The latter was half hidden under a pile of observation car chairs.
“I’ll get you out in a minute,” Nancy encouraged.
A moment later she helped the stunned girl to her feet.
“What happened?” George murmured in bewilderment.
“There’s been a wreck. Are you hurt?”
“Only shaken up a bit, I think. Is Bess safe?”
“I haven’t found her yet.”
“She was sitting right beside me when the crash came.”
Anxiously the girls began to move the debris, peering carefully beneath each pile. A low moan drew them to the place where their chum lay. Her face was so white they thought she must be seriously injured.
“Bess!” Nancy dropped to her knees.
“Where am I?” the victim mumbled incoherently.
Tenderly the girls lifted her and carried her to a level spot outside the car. Nancy chaffed her friend’s hands and spread out her coat for Bess to lie upon.
“Don’t bother about me,” she directed presently. “I’m dazed from a blow I received on the head, but I’ll soon be all right. Help the others.”
“Let’s try to find Mrs. Donnelly and Miss Chapelle,” Nancy suggested.
Anxiously she and George looked about for the two women, but did not see them among the little group of those uninjured. Returning to the observation car, they aided a child who had been pinned under a steel beam, and lifted out a boy with a broken leg.
Almost every car had jumped the track. Nancy noted that the coach which Mrs. Donnelly had occupied had received the brunt of the impact. Nearby sections were afire. The flames, whipped by a strong south wind, were spreading rapidly.
“Get some helpers and see if you can find Miss Chapelle,” Nancy called to George. “I’ll make certain that Mrs. Donnelly is safe.”
It was difficult for Nancy to ignore the pitiful cries of the injured passengers as she hurried past them, yet she felt that her first duty was to her friends. If Mrs. Donnelly had been trapped in her berth, she might be burned to death.
The car she was in had been converted into a tangled, twisted mass of steel. Nancy grew bewildered as she tried to locate the place where her chaperon might be. Flames were creeping ever closer and closer.
“Won’t you help me?” she appealed to a man near by. “I am afraid a woman is trapped inside this car.”
The fellow shook his head regretfully.
“I must search for my own little daughter first. The wrecking crew will be along soon.”
“It may be too late then,” Nancy thought desperately.
Over and over she called Mrs. Donnelly’s name, but there was no response. All about her women were crying hysterically, while children were sobbing and searching for their parents. Nancy felt physically ill, yet she continued pulling away debris, working desperately to beat the creeping line of red flame.
Just then George came running back to help her.
“Have you found Miss Chapelle?” Nancy asked.
“No. I’ve hunted everywhere. I’d have kept on looking, only I thought you might need me here.”
“I do. Oh, George, I’m afraid we’ll not get to her in time——”
At that moment a glad shout went up, for the wrecking crew had been sighted!
“Thank goodness, they’ve come at last!” Nancy exclaimed.
Even as she spoke, a burning brand, carried by the wind, dropped at her feet. She stamped it out, but still others fell about her.
In another minute the car would be afire!