Where Two Ways Met (29 page)

“It certainly is
not
right,” said Paige, his eyes flashing. “Where did you hear a thing like that?”

“Oh, I’ve heard it here and there. They said you’d gone down to the shore with the family and were pretty chummy with them all, taking the girl to dances and all that.”

“Well, I don’t know where you got it, but it’s
not true
. Mr. Chalmers was supposed to be sick and wanted me to go with him to the shore to answer the mail and attend to business for a while. I didn’t want to go, and wouldn’t promise at first, but finally it seemed I had to promise to go part-time, he made such a song and dance about it. And then after we’d been there a few days, that girl came barging down and changed the whole thing. I found myself roped into taking her places, dances, all sorts of things, and I
hated
it. I just don’t fit with a girl like that, Mr. Brown. And don’t get an idea I’d ever be engaged to her. She is not my style.”

They talked rather late, and Paige was greatly elated at the outcome. Now if he could only get Mr. Chalmers to agree to release him! He puzzled all the next day on just how he should make the approach for it and finally asked the Lord to show him what to do or say. Soon after that prayer there came a letter from Chalmers, written by Bill Arsdel, telling Paige that he would like him to take over that western trip he had told him about. There were seven mortgages to be foreclosed, and he wanted them
foreclosed
this time,
all
of them.
“See?”

Paige wasn’t long in answering that letter and sending it by special delivery, airmail.

Paige sent the letter right away. And then he went back to his desk and worked as he had never worked before, ready to go if and when allowed, and to leave everything in such shape that his absence might be regretted, rather than rejoiced in.

Late in the afternoon a telegram arrived from Chalmers.

So that was that. Mr. Chalmers was angry, of course, and might regret it later and come back and try to get him to change his mind, but Paige, though he was sad at the abrupt way Chalmers had replied, rejoiced that he was free. He gathered up his belongings from his desk, said good-bye to his secretary and one or two others who were still in the office doing late work, and went home.

He went at once to the telephone and called up Mr. Brown, telling him the outcome of his letter, and received a glad welcome.

“Come down next Monday morning and we’ll start with a clear slate and make our plans,” said Mr. Brown.

“And you aren’t sorry yet that you asked me?” questioned Paige.

“Not even a little bit,” came the hearty reply that warmed Paige’s heart.

Then Paige went to his mother with the news, his eyes shining, till she said he looked as he used to when he was a little boy and someone had given him a football.

“Oh, my son!” she said. “You don’t know how glad I am about this! I’ve been so very troubled about your staying in that firm of worldly men, I felt almost from the start that it was not the place for you.”

And then suddenly a cloud came over the brightness of her face.

“But—that
girl
, Paige? Will she hang on to you?”

Paige laughed.

“I think not, Mom. Wait till I tell you how we parted.” And he sat down and told his mother the whole story, not at length, only the main facts, but she watched him and drew a deep breath of relief.

“Oh, my dear!” she said. “We’ll have to pray for that girl! How she needs the Lord.”

“Yes,” said Paige, “but she doesn’t
want
Him, Mom!”

“No, they don’t, not when they want their own way and don’t realize they are sinners. But I’ll pray. Also, I’ll thank my God that you don’t have to be around her anymore.”

Paige grinned at her then.

“Why, Moms! You didn’t have to worry about
that
girl. I never would have taken up with her, no matter if there wasn’t another girl in the whole wide world. I just couldn’t abide her!”

But his mother only smiled in a wise way. Well she knew from her long life of experience, how easily the wrong girl could wind even a good man around her silly little finger and never let him guess what she was doing until it was too late.

With his heart full of joy, Paige went upstairs to write to June about all the wonders that the Lord had wrought for him.

And that was the night that June was taking the train for home and would be gone when that letter arrived, but of course Paige didn’t know that.

June had sent a telegram to her father telling him what train she was taking, but he had not told her mother about it yet. He was going to wait and let it be a surprise in the morning. So nobody had run across the street to tell the Madisons, or even telephoned, and Paige was writing his letter, carefully, not to tell too much. Not too certain just how much to tell yet. It was all so new he couldn’t get used to it, and so he wrote and then tore his letter to little bits and wrote it over again. He sat up quite late to finish it and had it ready to mail in the morning. He knew he didn’t have to get up early, for Chalmers had freed him from the office, and he could just enjoy his home and be lazy for a little while.

And so when he finally did get into his bed, he was tired with all the excitement of the day and fell right to sleep, but later dreamed of June. Where do dreams come from? Are they real, like radio voices floating around waiting to be picked up, or are they just formed out of the inner consciousness? That was something that Paige thought about long afterward, but he hadn’t time then. He was too busy sleeping, and dreaming.

J
une’s dreams were sweet and pleasant. She had been through so much that was unpleasant back at her aunt’s, and now that she was on her way home she seemed to have dropped it all and was just luxuriating in rest.

The train droned on mile after mile, steadily, dependably, getting ready for morning and its destination. Morning was already on its way. The sky was growing lighter at the edges, and the villages and cities were getting closer together. Here and there they passed a station in the darkness with yellow sleepy lights blaring out and tired officials and trainmen standing around in the murky light waiting for the train to pass and one more day to dawn.

Then the train rolled on, taking up its monotonous tune again, faster, and a little faster! They were half a minute behind time. Where was that New York train? It ought to be in sight now behind that far mountain.

On and on and on. Till suddenly the sharp blast of a whistle just outside the tunnel ahead and a quick crash that shook the whole train to its very foundation. There was the sound of splintering glass, groaning machinery, torn wooden structures, and then the shuddering of the other train as it poised itself on the edge of the embankment, and, quivering in every fiber of its being, rolled down to the river! Some of the cars turned over in the water and came to a tortuous stop.

June suddenly sat up and then as suddenly was jarred down again by the impact of the two engines disputing with each other which should occupy the slender track that seemed all so uncertain.

It was deadly still for an instant, as if the trains were deciding what to do, till the New York train decided to turn over and roll. Then began screams and outcries, yelling of frightened children, groaning of the injured, the moaning of the dying. And fire sprang up and raged ahead.

June lay still stunned, scarcely knowing what to think. There had been an accident of course, but she wasn’t hurt. She was thankful for that. She was in one of the last cars and had not been so close to the wreck as some.

Gradually her senses came back to her, and she could look around. She tried to open her window shade but one end seemed jammed shut. She pulled the fabric aside and saw the glow of the starting fire. She caught her breath. Fire! She should get out as quickly as possible!

She felt around for her shoes, which were usually the extent of her undressing in a sleeper. She found her light switch but it did not work. Her little flashlight was in her suitcase under the berth and she hadn’t time to search for it. Better get out, no matter what she lost. Her purse was in her handbag, and with it held close in one hand, her arm slipped under the strap, she swung her trembling limbs out into the aisle, which she found was on a distinct slant, and crept forward to where the door had been.

There were other people ahead of her now, some women sobbing as they hurried, one screaming. A man telling her to shut up.

They reached the door, and the man wrenched it open with a great effort. They crowded out, all eager to be the first, June halting to let a woman with a little frightened baby get ahead, and at last she was outside, with the cool night air blowing in her face. Oh, it was good and reviving to feel it.

It was a gruesome sight outside. They could see the wrecked cars, twisted as if they had been made of tin like children’s toys, the submerged cars down below in the river, with a few frantic people struggling to get out of windows, not far from where the fire was raging. It was weird and terrible. People in all sorts of dress and undress, milling around and crying out, trying to understand what had happened and why. Trying to do something to help, and doing the wrong thing.

Suddenly, June saw a little neglected child crying at the edge of the embankment, her mother unconscious lying beside her. June hurried to them and knelt to see what help she could give, and so began her labors.

A little later someone sent a radio message that presently the broadcasting center took up and started to tell the world what had happened.

The minister, coming in from an all-night visit to a dying parishioner, turned on the radio to see if his watch was right, and heard the news.

“Terrible railroad accident! Head-on collision between New York train and midnight express from the West. List of casualties not known yet. One train submerged in the river, the other on fire—” He shut it off quickly and dashed out the door. He didn’t want his wife to hear this yet, though of course she did not know that June was on that train.

The minister hurried across the road to the Madison house. They would help. Was Paige there yet? He knocked at the door, rang the bell, and called. Paige, in his bathrobe, came running down the stairs.

“What’s the matter?” he said when he saw the wild look on the minister’s face.

“There’s been a terrible accident, over in Ohio, I guess it is. And June was on one of the trains! Can you go with me to get her? I don’t know if she has been injured or is even living.”

“June?”
Oh, his heart cried out to God for help. “Yes, of course I’ll go. I’ll be with you in a minute. My car has gas. We’ll go in that. I’ll send Mother over to your wife. Does she know?”

“No, she doesn’t even know June is coming. I got the telegram late last night and didn’t want to excite her.”

“Well, Mother will be with her. Do you know the exact location of where we’re going? I’ll get Dad to phone the station and find out about the accident.”

It was extraordinary how quickly they got started. How quietly the two households of frightened people kept their heads and did the things that ought to be done. And then the two men were off, leaving the others at home to pray and to listen to the radio messages that from time to time kept coming in.

The two grave-faced men said little to each other, save now and again to ask a question about the route, but each knew that the other was praying and trusting, and Paige learned a lesson of trust that day from the frantic father who thought he had been the cause of his child’s being on that train. Once he voiced that thought, in his desperation, and Paige looked up and shook his head.

“No, you weren’t the cause,” he said. “Nothing can happen like that without God’s knowledge and consent. You said that yourself last Sunday in your sermon. If God orders this, all will be well, because He can protect His own.”

A look of sudden light came in the distracted father’s face, and he actually smiled.

“You’re right, dear fellow,” he said. “We’ll just trust in that. Thank you for reminding me.”

When they stopped at a filling station, Mr. Culbertson did some telephoning and found out that the rescue was still going on. Most of the casualties were on the New York train, though there were several from the western train. Still, they could take heart of hope and press on. They were halfway there now.

Mile after mile of trustfulness, hour after hour of looking to God, and during that time the two men’s hearts were knit in a deep, strong love for one another, because they were out together to work for the one they both loved. Nothing was said about that, but each recognized the truth of it.

The last few miles were the hardest, for both men were very weary, the father almost to the breaking point, and they rode on, their faces gray and worn.

And then they came within sight of the wreck!