ntered or broken in the downward rush of the
building, was surely a sight worth seeing. At least some of the town
people who came up just then felt they had good reason to be proud of
the Banner Boy Scouts, who on other notable occasions had brought
credit to the community.

"I can see him now!" exclaimed Bobolink; and indeed, only a few more
weighty fragments remained to be lifted off before Jack would be able
to drop down into the cavity and assist the prisoner at close
quarters.

Five minutes later the workers managed to release Mr. Garrity, and
Jack helped him out of his prison. The old gentleman looked
considerably the worse for his remarkable experience. There was blood
upon his cheek, and he kept caressing one arm as though it pained him
considerably.

Still his heart was filled with thanksgiving as he stared around at
the pile of torn timbers, and considered what a marvelous escape his
had been.

"Let me take a look at your arm, sir," said Jack, who feared that it
had been broken, because a beam had pinned the gentleman by his arm to
the ground.

Mr. Garrity, who up to that time had paid very little attention to the
Boy Scout movement that had swept over that region of the eastern
country like wildfire, looked at the eager, boyish faces of his
rescuers. It could be seen that he was genuinely affected on noticing
that most of them wore the badges that distinguish scouts the world
over.

"I hope my wrist is not broken, though even that would be a little
price to pay for my temerity in entering that shaky old building," he
ventured to say as he allowed Jack to examine his arm.

"I'm glad to tell you, sir," said the boy, quickly, "that it is only a
bad sprain. At the worst you will be without the use of that hand for
a month or two."

"Then I have great reason to be thankful," declared Mr. Garrity,
solemnly. "Perhaps this may be intended for a lesson to me. And, to
begin with, I want to say that I believe I owe my very life to you
boys. I can never forget it. Others, of course, might have done all
they could to dig me out, but only a long-headed boy, like Jack
Stormways here, would have thought to keep that timber from falling
and crushing me just when escape seemed certain."

He went around shaking hands with each one of the boys, of course
using his left arm, since the right was disabled for the time being.
Jack deftly made a sling out of a red bandana handkerchief, which he
fastened around the neck