Chapter 6

Arthur woke to find some one tugging at his shoulders, trying to drag him from beneath the heavy table, which had wedged itself across his feet and pinned him fast, while a flying chair had struck him on the head and knocked him unconscious.

“Oh, come and help,” Estelle’s voice was calling deliberately. “Somebody come and help! He’s caught in here!”

She was sobbing in a combination of panic and some unknown emotion.

“Help me, please!” she gasped, then her voice broke despondently, but she never ceased to tug ineffectually at Chamberlain, trying to drag him out of the mass of wreckage.

Arthur moved a little, dazedly.

“Are you alive?” she called anxiously. “Are you alive? Hurry, oh, hurry and wriggle out. The building’s falling to pieces!”

“I’m all right,” Arthur said weakly. “You get out before it all comes down.”

“I won’t leave you,” she declared “Where are you caught? Are you badly hurt? Hurry, please hurry!”

Arthur stirred, but could not loosen his feet. He half-rolled over, and the table moved as if it had been precariously balanced, and slid heavily to one side. With Estelle still tugging at him, he managed to get to his feet on the slanting floor and stared about him.

Arthur continued to stare about.

“No danger,” he said weakly. “Just the floor of the one room gave way. The aftermath of the rock-flaw.”

He made his way across the splintered flooring and piled-up chairs.

“We’re on top of the safe-deposit vault,” he said. “That’s why we didn’t fall all the way to the floor below. I wonder how we’re going to get down?”

Estelle followed him, still frightened for fear of the building falling upon them. Some of the long floor-boards stretched over the edge of the vault and rested on a tall, bronze grating that protected the approach to the massive strong-box. Arthur tested them with his foot.

“They seem to be pretty solid,” he said tentatively.

His strength was coming back to him every moment. He had been no more than stunned. He walked out on the planking to the bronze grating and turned.

“If you don’t get dizzy, you might come on,” he said. “We can swing down the grille here to the floor.”

Estelle followed gingerly and in a moment they were safely below. The corridor was quite empty.

“When the crash came,” Estelle explained, her voice shaking with the reaction from her fear of a moment ago, “every one thought the building was coming to pieces, and ran out. I’m afraid they’ve all run away.”

“They’ll be back in a little while,” Arthur said quietly.

They went along the big marble corridor to the same western door, out of which they had first gone to see the Indian village. As they emerged into the sunlight they met a few of the people who had already recovered from their panic and were returning.

A crowd of respectable size gathered in a few moments, all still pale and shaken, but coming back to the building which was their refuge. Arthur leaned wearily against the cold stone. It seemed to vibrate under his touch. He turned quickly to Estelle.

“Feel this,” he exclaimed.

She did so.

“I’ve been wondering what that rumble was,” she said. “I’ve been hearing it ever since we landed here, but didn’t understand where it came from.”