I jumped right through the window and the smoke got into my eyes and
made my ears ring, but I didn't care. I could taste it all thick, too,
but I didn't care. That was the smoke that had to do what Wigley Weigand
told it to, and he scribbled all over the sky with it, that's what he
did, and now it had turned around and killed him.

I knew that up to six or seven inches from the floor there is never much
smoke and I knew he must have lain down low when he was almost
unconscious and worked that damper. And those fellows up there had been
laughing and cheering all the while, when he was lying there like that.

I didn't see Artie anywhere and there wasn't any sound. I lay down flat
and crawled over to Wig and you bet I worked quick. I tied his hands
together with my scout scarf--it was the Silver Fox scarf--and I tied
the scarf around my neck.

"Wig," I said, but he didn't speak and his legs and his neck hung loose,
sort of, and it kind of scared me. Then I crawled to the window, because
I couldn't see the door, dragging him after me. Then I did something I
never thought I could do, but maybe you've noticed you can do most
anything when you have to. I just stood up, then fell down again,
coughing and choking, and my ears were buzzing all the time. But I
didn't care, I just stood up again with him hanging to me, and I grabbed
the window sill and dragged him half way across it and with his head
outside, and then I staggered and tried to grab something and my eyes
were stinging and, oh, I don't know, all of a sudden my head knocked
and I didn't know any more.

Mr. Ellsworth says that Doc ought to write the rest of this chapter, but
he wouldn't, and it's just like him. The next thing I knew I was sitting
on the lowest step and Connie Bennet was holding my head. "You're all
right," he said, "but you got a good bump. You were only there a few
seconds."

"Did you pull me out?" I said. "Where's, Wig?"

"Doc brought him around," he said, "he got him breathing, then it was
easy. We couldn't find Artie."

Maybe it was funny, but just then I didn't seem to be thinking about
Artie. I felt my head and found I had a big bump on it.

"I should worry about that," I said. "Where's Wig?"

Then I got up and went around the cabin to the forward deck and there
were all the fellows and Wig sitting up and Doc Carson holding him
and moving: him, so as to keep him breathing--scout fashion.

"All righto, kid," Doc said, kind of pleasant,