The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound. George A. Warren
to do most of our skating every winter.”
“Suppose we climb around the timbers and see if we can hear any sound of groaning,” suggested Bobolink, suiting the action to his words.
Several men from the other ice-house reached the spot just then.
Jack turned to them as a measure of saving time. If there were no men working in the wrecked building at the time it fell there did not seem any necessity for attempting to move any of the twisted timbers that lay in such a confused mass.
“Hello! Jan,” he called out as the panting laborers arrived. “It was a big piece of luck that none of you were inside the old ice-house when it collapsed just now.”
The man whom he addressed looked blankly at the boy. Jack could see that he was laboring under renewed excitement.
“Look here! was there any one in the old building, do you know, Jan?” he demanded.
“I ban see Maister Garrity go inside yoost afore she smash down,” was the startling reply.
The boys stared at each other. Mr. Thomas Garrity was a very rich and singular citizen of Stanhope.
Finally Bobolink burst out with:
“Say, you know Mr. Garrity is one of the owners of these ice-houses, fellows. I guess he must have come up here to-day to see for himself if the old building was as rickety as people said.”
“Huh! then I guess he found out all right,” growled Tom Betts.
“Never mind that now,” said Jack, hastily. “Mr. Garrity never had much use for the scouts, but all the same he’s a human being. We’ve got our duty cut out for us plainly enough.”
“Guess you mean we must clear away this trash with the help of these men here, Jack,” suggested Wallace, eagerly.
“Just what I had in mind,” confessed Jack. “But before we start in let’s all listen and see if we can hear anything like a groan.”
All of them stood in an expectant attitude, straining their hearing to the utmost.
Presently the listeners plainly caught the sound of a groan.
CHAPTER III
THE RESCUE
“Jack, he’s here under all this stuff!” called out Bobolink, excitedly.
“Poor old chap,” said Wallace. “I wouldn’t like to give much for his chance of getting out of the scrape with his life.”
“And to think,” added Bluff, soberly, “that after all the protestations made by the company that the old house couldn’t fall, it trapped one of the big owners when it smashed down. It’s mighty queer, it strikes me.”
“Keep still again,” warned Jack. “I want to call out and see if Mr. Garrity can hear me.”
“A bully good scheme, Jack!” asserted Bobolink. “If we can locate him in that way it may save us a heap of hard work dragging these timbers around.”
Jack dropped flat on his face, and, placing his mouth close to the wreckage where it seemed worst, called aloud:
“Hello! Mr. Garrity, can you hear me?”
“Yes! Oh, yes!” came the faint response from somewhere below.
“Are you badly hurt, sir?” continued the scout.
“I don’t know—I believe not, but a beam is keeping tons and tons from falling on me. I am pinned down here, and can hardly move. Hurry and get some of these timbers off before they fall and crush me!”
Every word came plainly to their ears now. Evidently, Mr. Garrity, understanding that relief was at hand, began to feel new courage. Jack waited for no more.
“I reckon I’ve located him, boys,” he told the others, “and now we’ve got to get busy.”
“Only tell us what to do, Jack,” urged Wallace, “and there are plenty of willing hands here for the work, what with these strong men and the rest of the boys.”
Indeed, already newcomers were arriving, some of them being people who had been passing along the turnpike near by in wagons or sleighs at the time the accident happened, and who hastened to the spot in order to render what assistance they could.
Jack seemed to know just how to go about the work. If he had been in the house-wrecking business for years he could hardly have improved upon his system.
“We’ve got to be careful, you understand, fellows,” he told the others as they labored strenuously to remove the upper timbers from the pile, “because that one timber he mentioned is the key log of the jam. As long as it holds he’s safe from being crushed. Here, don’t try that beam yet, men. Take hold of the other one. And Bobolink and Wallace, help me lift this section of shingles from the roof!”
So Jack went on to give clear directions. He did not intend that any new accident should be laid at their door on account of too much haste. Better that the man who was imprisoned under all this wreckage should remain there a longer period than that he lose his life through carelessness. Jack believed in making thorough work of anything he undertook; and this trait marked him as a clever scout.
As others came to add to the number of willing workers the business of delving into the wreck of the ice-house proceeded in a satisfactory manner. Once in a while Jack would call a temporary halt while he got into communication with the unfortunate man they were seeking to assist.
“He seems to be all right so far, fellows,” was the cheering report he gave after this had happened for the third time; “and I think we’ll be able to reach him in a short time now.”
“As sure as you’re born we will, Jack!” announced Bobolink, triumphantly; “for I can see the big timber he said was acting as a buffer above him. Hey! we’ve got to be extra careful now, because one end of that beam is balanced ever so delicately, and if it gets shoved off its anchorage—good-bye to Mr. Garrity!”
“Yes,” came from below the wreckage, “be very careful, please, for it’s just as you say.”
Jack was more than ever on the alert as the work continued. He watched every move that was made, and often warned those who strained and labored to be more cautious.
“In five minutes or so we ought to be able to get something under that loose end of the big timber, Jack,” suggested Bobolink, presently.
“In less time than that,” he was told. “And here’s the very prop to slip down through that opening. I think I can reach it right now, if you stop the work for a bit.”
He pushed the stout post carefully downward, endeavoring to adjust it so that it was bound to catch and hold the timber should the latter break away from its frail support at that end. When Bobolink saw him get up from his knees a minute later he did not need to be told that Jack’s endeavor had been a success, for the satisfied smile on the other’s face told as much.
“Now let the good work go on with a rush!” called out Jack. “Not so much danger now, because I’ve put a crimp in that timber’s threat to fall. It’s securely wedged. Everybody get busy.”
Jack led in the work himself, and the way they removed the heavy beams, many of them splintered 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