he hanging from the collapsing structure. Then they
saw him let go. Perhaps they did not know the full significance of Roy's
predicament. They thought Blythe stark mad.

He struck the flooring with a thud, drew his breath and grabbed his
ankle in a sudden twinge of pain, stood, fell again with an exclamation
of agony, then dragged himself to his hands and knees, and pulled Roy to
the ground. Bracing his own back above the prostrate form he waited, the
cords standing out on his arms like ropes. He gulped and jerked his head
as if to shake away the agony that seemed killing him. His body was well
clear of the small form beneath him. And thus he waited, one second, two
seconds,--

And then with an appalling sound of splitting timbers the whole
structure collapsed and fell upon him.

So suddenly did this happen that Blythe had scarcely braced himself over
Roy's body when both were buried under the fallen debris. Nor had the
scouts at the edge of the roof wholly escaped; several who had not
jumped quickly enough and far enough received slight cuts and bruises
from the falling timbers.

Scrambling to their feet they called to the victims who were pinned
unseen beneath the wreckage, starting at the same time to haul away the
debris. There was no answer from beneath.

"What did he do? What did he do it for?" one asked.

"Why didn't Roy get from under?"

"Search me; hurry up, pull the stuff off them."

"Blythe is crazy."

"Sure he is."

"He didn't think fast enough; he's not to blame. Hurry up."

"Roy was crazy, you mean."

They worked frantically pulling away the fallen boards and beams, Grove
Bronson with a handkerchief wound around his bleeding hand, Wig Weigand
with a great bruise on his forehead. Pee-wee strove like a giant. Soon
the form of Blythe was revealed, braced by his hands and knees, and Roy
lying prostrate beneath him.

"How are you?" one of the scouts called.

"All right," Roy answered; "my foot is caught under the flooring."

"Blythe all right? How about you, Blythey?"

Blythe did not answer. He seemed immovable, like a figure of stone. His
bare arms gave the impression of a taut rope. A heavy timber which they
lifted from across his back, where it had lain like a seesaw, must have
all but broken his spine. A rusted nail in it had torn his poor, shabby
coat almost in twain, and there was blood on the flannel shirt beneath
it. Blood was flowing freely from a wound in his head and dripping down