The girl bent over and spoke slowly, distinctly, as one might speak to a deaf person or a child.
"Listen, Mr. Blakeley," she said earnestly, "You must rouse yourself. There has been a terrible accident. The second section ran into us. The wreck is burning now, and if we don't move, we will catch fire. Do you hear?"
Her voice and my arm were bringing me to my senses. "I hear," I said. "I—I'll sit up in a second. Are you hurt?"
"No, only bruised. Do you think you cam walk?"
I drew up one foot after another, gingerly.
"They seem to move all right," I remarked dubiously. "Would you mind telling me where the back of my head has gone? I can't help thinking it isn't there."
She made a quick examination. "It's pretty badly bumped," she said. "You must have fallen on it."
I had got up on my uninjured elbow by that time, but the pain threw me back. "Don't look at the wreck," I entreated her. "It's no sight
