"Mystery?" spoke Russ, musingly. "Well, I believe there is something
wrong about the place--not exactly a mystery, though. Maybe it's some
sort of trouble. Well, here we go!"

The train had started out into the "wilds of Jersey," as Wellington
Bunn, the tragic actor, put it. It was about forty miles to
Beatonville, the trip occupying nearly two hours, for the train was
not a fast one. The members of the company conversed on various
topics in regard to some of the projected plays.

The train had stopped at a small station, and was gathering speed
when there suddenly came such an application of the air brakes as to
cause several persons in the aisle to fall. Others slid from their
seats, or were thrown against the backs of the seats in front of
them.

"What is it?"

"What's the matter?"

"An accident--let's get out!"

Before anyone could do anything, though, there was a terrific smash,
and amid the wild tooting of a whistle could be heard the crashing
and splintering of wood. Then the train came to a stop with a jerk
that further scattered the frightened passengers.

"A smash-up!"

"A collision!"

"Oh, let's get out of here!"

No one could tell who was saying these things. They were shouted over
and over again.

Russ Dalwood picked himself up from the floor of the car. A glance
told him that no member of the company had been more than jarred or
shaken, for their car was intact, and no windows were broken.

He helped Alice back to her seat, from which she had slid. Ruth had
risen to her feet. Russ caught up his camera and made for the door.

"Oh, where are you going?" cried Alice, nervously clutching her
leather purse. "Is any one hurt?"

"I don't know--I'm going to see," answered Russ. "And I'm going to
film this smash. I may be able to get some good pictures for our
newspaper service, Mr. Pertell," he added, as he hurried out.

CHAPTER II

A MISSING DOG

After the first crash, the sudden stop, and the terrified cries, a
silence followed that was almost as startling and nerve-racking as
the accident had been.

Then benumbed senses gradually came back to their owners, and the
passengers began to take stock of themselves and their surroundings.

"Is anybody hurt?" demanded Mr. Pertell, as he surveyed the interior
of the car.

"We seem to be all right," replied Mr. DeVere, hoarsely, as he noted
where his two daughters were standing together, their arms about each
other.

"Py gracious,