I struck the bank about a mile and a half below
here, and I've had one almighty big struggle to get back. For the love
of the Virgin give me a drink; I'm half dead;" and with that the poor
fellow fell over senseless.
I called one of the doctors and had him taken to the caboose of the
wrecker, and when I had time I went in and heard the rest of his story.
The poor chap was badly hurt, having one ankle broken, besides being
bruised up generally. He said when No. 21 left Truxton, Roberts
proceeded at a snail-like pace, keeping a sharp lookout for a wash out.
He slowed almost to a standstill before going on the bridge, but
everything appearing all safe and sound he started again, remarking to
Carter, "Here's where I get the bath that Bates spoke about."
[Illustration: "See here, who is going to pull this train?"]
The engine was half way over when there came a deafening roar; the train
quivered, and--then Carter jumped. That was all he knew. It was enough,
and we sent him back with the rest of the wounded the next morning. He
is pulling a passenger train there to-day.
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