CHAPTER VII.

BY A HAIR’S BREADTH.

Harry, who half stood up on the end of the flying toboggan, was the only member of the Zero Club who retained his presence of mind.

He saw at a glance that they and the oncoming express train must reach the crossing at about the same time, and in that case the grim locomotive and heavy cars would deal to them certain death.

“Jump for your lives!” he cried out, hoarsely. “Jump, every one of you!”

His tone was so decisive that the other three acted on it almost mechanically. Jack, who was in front, leaped first, and after him came all the others in a heap.

Over and over they rolled, each trying to shield himself as much as he could by the overcoat he wore. Jack went down to the bottom of the hill on his head, and poor Andy came over him, striking his forehead on a railroad tie, the blow rendering him unconscious.

Boxy slid along on his chest to one side, and crashed into a mass of brush with such force that his clothing was torn to ribbons, and his face and hands were scratched in a dozen places.

Harry struck on his back, and turned half-a-dozen different ways before he could stop himself. When finally he did come to a halt, it was within two feet of the railroad tracks.

The powerful locomotive rushed past, followed by the tender and two cars. Then there was a series of sharp jerks as the lever was reversed by the engineer, the tracks were sanded, and the long train came to a sudden halt. The conductor and several brakemen were out almost instantly, demanding to know what was the matter.

“Come pretty near running over that crowd!” cried out the engineer. “If they had not jumped, I reckon I would have killed most of ’em.”

“I don’t see any toboggan,” returned the conductor.

“I smashed that to kindling wood. There’s part of it on the cowcatcher, and the rest is on the other side of the track.”

“By George! that’s so. You can count yourselves mighty lucky, boys,” went on the conductor, to Jack, who was getting up slowly.

“I suppose so,” returned Jack, briefly, and then he turned to where Andy was lying, and bent over his younger brother. “Andy! Andy! are you hurt very badly?”

“Jack!” murmured the half-unconscious boy. “Oh, my head!”

“He struck it on the ties, I guess,” said one of the brakemen. “It’s bleeding a bit. Better rub some snow on it.”

By this time Harry and Boxy came limping to the scene, both presenting a most deplorable sight, Boxy especially, with half of his clothing torn from his back.

“We can’t wait,” said the conductor. “You want to be more careful how you coast down this hill,” he went on, to the crowd that was beginning to collect. “If you don’t, we’ll have the worst kind of an accident here some day.”

He motioned to the engineer, and hurried to one of the cars, followed by the other train hands. In a few seconds the express was once more on its way.

The crowd around the boys kept growing, as it spread that an accident had occurred.

“Harry Webb’s toboggan was smashed by the express!”

“Andy Bascoe was almost killed!”

“Every one of them was shaken up badly!”

Under the tender care of Jack and the others, Andy soon came to himself. But his head ached fearfully, and he could hardly stand on his feet.

“Yo’ sit on my bread-shubble, and I’ll ride yo’ home,” said Pickles Johnsing, who happened to be on hand. “Yo’ can sit on an’ hole him, Jack, if yo’ wants to,” he continued.

So Jack got on, and made it comfortable for Andy, whose head he had bound up with his own handkerchief and several others. Although they felt sore in every joint, Harry and Boxy insisted on helping Pickles drag the sled to its destination.

“The _Buster_ is smashed to bits,” said Boxy on the way.

“I know it,” returned Harry. “But I don’t care,” he added, with a shudder. “I couldn’t bear to ride on her again after that narrow escape.”

“Nor I. My! I ain’t done trembling yet,” was Boxy’s confession, in a low tone.

The news of the accident had preceded them, and they found Mr. and Mrs. Bascoe anxiously awaiting their appearance.

“My boy!” cried the mother, as she caught Andy in her arms. “And you were almost killed?”

“Oh, no, mother; I struck my head, that’s all,” replied Andy, putting on a bold front. “I’ll be all right by to-morrow.”

Andy limped into the house, and a servant was dispatched for a doctor. When the physician arrived he declared that the bruise was not serious. The shock to the boy’s system was worse, and he must remain quiet for a day or two.

“We won’t be able to go away on Monday morning,” said Jack to the others. “Father says we had better wait until Tuesday or Wednesday.”

“I don’t care,” said Harry. “I am thankful we escaped being killed.”

“So am I,” put in Boxy. “And I just as lief wait, for I’m too stiff to start off on a tour just yet.”

“How is Minnie?”

“Oh, she’s as well as ever.”

Sunday passed quietly, although the escape of the four boys was the talk of the town. On Monday Andy was found to be greatly improved, and it was decided that the start up the river should be made on the following morning at sunrise.

“It won’t do to delay much longer,” said Jack, “for it looks as if we might have a heavy snowstorm before long, and that would block our chances of using the _Icicle_.”

“Oh, I hope it doesn’t snow until we are settled in our camp!” cried Boxy. “I was just longing for that iceboat ride!”

Even at the last moment, the boys found several things to do which had previously escaped their notice. Some stores had been forgotten, and not a bit of medicine, arnica or court-plaster had been packed with the things. All these, however, were procured, and late Monday evening Jack declared themselves prepared to depart.

It may well be imagined that none of the boys slept well that night. Each was anxious for the start, and all heads were filled with visions of glorious times to come. What a great and grand thing this tour of the Zero Club was to be!

Long before daylight Harry was up and dressed. His mother also arose, and saw to it that her son had a good warm breakfast before he departed.

“You won’t get another like it for some time to come,” she said, with a sorry little smile. “Mark my words.”

“Nonsense, mother,” he laughed. “Just think of the game we’ll shoot and the fish we’ll catch.”

“Perhaps, Harry. Remember one thing, my boy; do not run into danger.”

“I’ll try to remember what you say.”

Harry had barely finished when Boxy came over, and, with a final good-by, the two started off for the Bascoe homestead.

They found the other two members of the club waiting for them. Jack had the well-packed sled out of the barn, and Andy stood beside him, a trifle pale, but otherwise as well as ever.

“Just a fine morning!” cried Jack. “And the wind blowing exactly in the right direction.”

“But snow isn’t far off--my father said so,” returned Harry. “He said we would be lucky to reach Rock Island Lake without catching a downfall.”

“We won’t lose another minute!” burst in Boxy. “Come on, boys! Good-by, everybody, and three cheers for the tour of the Zero Club!”

The backyard rang with the cheers, and then, with caps waving, the four boys moved off, dragging the sled behind them.

It certainly was a fine morning, the rising sun sending long glittering rays over the crust of the frozen snow. The wind was a trifle cold, but this the quartet did not mind. For them, just now, it was much better than no wind at all.

“I calculate that we can reach Hammerstone by twelve o’clock,” said Jack. “And that will be half the journey up the river.”

“And we can reach Rudd’s Landing by nightfall,” put in Boxy. “And start across country for the lake the first thing to-morrow. Did you send word to Barton Coils about taking care of the iceboat for us?”

“Yes, and he said we could stay at his place all night if we wished. I reckon it will be better than trying to put up a hut just for one night.”

Boxy demurred a little at this. He wished to go to camping just as quickly as possible. But the others overruled him.

“We’ll get camping enough, never fear,” remarked Andy. “Remember, we’ll have to put in one night on this side of the lake shore before we strike a suitable place to camp.”

As soon as they reached the vicinity of the river, Harry ran ahead to unfasten the iceboat, and get the craft in readiness for the start.

A few seconds later the others heard him give a cry of wild alarm. He soon reappeared among them.

“The _Icicle_ is gone!” was the startling intelligence he brought.