help."

First of all Jack turned to his chum, young Hastings. But Hal, though
his face was white from the shock of it all, smiled back, then helped
himself out of the wrecked car.

Within the next few minutes it developed that Eph had been stunned.
Beyond this he had suffered no injury except a bruise along the left
thigh.

Jacob Farnum proved to be only stunned and badly shaken. But David
Pollard displayed a helpless left wrist and complained of severe pain
in the left side of his chest.

The chauffeur had a broken left leg, a broken arm, and a mass of bruises
on his face, where he had struck the hard earth.

"Great Scott, but this is almost like the carnage of war!" muttered Jack
Benson. "Hal, you and Eph help Mr. Farnum with the others. I'm going
down the road to the first house, and send for aid."

Arrived at a farm-house that proved to be connected with the telephone
service, Jack 'phoned for the two nearest doctors, and for men to come
and help the injured. Then he called up the garage from which the auto
had been hired; this address being supplied by the chauffeur.

Then, accompanied by the man of the house, young Benson hurried back to
the scene of the wreck. The submarine captain found that he had at
least been so bruised and shaken up that speed on his feet hurt.

The first to arrive, of those summoned, was the owner of the garage in
Colfax. He came in a large car, burning gasoline fast.

"I'm Graves, from the garage," he introduced himself, shutting off power
and leaping out. "Jove, what a smash this is!"

Until two doctors and several men arrived Graves devoted himself to
helping make the injured victims as comfortable as possible.

When the doctors and helpers appeared on the scene Graves soon called
Jack Benson aside.

"There's something about this affair that must be investigated," declared
the garage man, in an undertone. "The cars that I keep are all of one
make, and there are no stauncher, safer cars made in the world. No such
accident has ever before happened to one of my cars. Come; let's see
what we can find out."

Graves didn't have to look far. He halted at the broken axle, staring
at it hard. Then he looked over the broken casting from all sides.

"See here," Graves ground out, between his teeth, "all the axles on my
cars are branded with the trade-mark of the maker, and the number of the
inspector who passes the axles. Yet this axle is unbranded! Now, I
happen to