The Call of the Beaver Patrol Part 61

"Buried alive!" cried Will with a sob, "Buried alive!"

CHAPTER XIX

VICTIMS OF THE QUAKE

The broad rock upon which the boys stood slid down the declivity for some distance and brought up against a thicket of trees which stood not far from the bank of the creek. The boys were fairly thrown from their feet as the rock struck, but fortunately they were not injured in the least. It was quite dark now, and the dust rising from the disturbed earth made the scene still more dim.

The first thing the boys heard when they scrambled to their feet was a faint moan and then a call for help.

"Sandy! George!" called Will.

There was no answer from above, but a faltering voice was heard just at the edge of the thicket, where the rock had crushed into a hemlock of unusual size.

"Help," the voice said. "Help!"

Will threw his searchlight in the direction of the sound and soon saw a writhing figure in the underbrush which had been crushed down by the fall of the rock.

"Who are you?" asked Will.

"Fenton," was the answer.

"Where'd you come from?" asked the boy in amazement.

"For G.o.d's sake," exclaimed the writhing man, "don't stop to ask questions now. My leg is smashed under the rock upon which you are standing! It is enough to say that I came here with Cameron!"

"Where is Cameron?" asked Will. Fenton pointed further down the slope.

"He fell over in that direction when a rock struck him," he said.

Will and George made a thorough examination of the slope where the cavern had been before wasting any time on their injured enemies.

They called loudly to George and Sandy but received no answer.

"I'm afraid," Ed said, "that the boys were crushed under the falling rocks! If they were, we ought to leave the men responsible for their death where they are! They are not deserving of human help!"

"And yet," Will replied, "I can't find it in my heart to leave them in such a plight. We ought at least to see if we can get them out of their present cramped quarters."

After much exertion the boys managed to manufacture something like a handspike from one of the broken saplings, and with this they began prying at the heavy rock. It gave, but slowly.

While they worked away, hoping every instant to be able to draw Fenton from under the stone and so lessen his sufferings, they saw the hand of the man they were so unselfishly a.s.sisting stealing toward his hip pocket.

"Watch him!" whispered Will. "He means to shoot us as soon as he is released! That shows what kind of a dirty dog he is!"

As the rock was lifted by slow degrees and propped so that its weight was not so heavy upon the unfortunate man the boys saw that his hand was creeping closer to his hip pocket.

When at last the weight was removed, Fenton's first act was to attempt to draw his weapon. Ed kicked it from his hand and then proceeded to tie the fellow's wrists together behind his back.

"You're a dirty sneak," the boy exclaimed, "or you wouldn't try to kill the people who have saved your life! From this time on, you get no a.s.sistance from us!"

"I didn't mean anything!" whined Fenton.

"Don't lie about it!" fritted Will. "Where's Cameron?"

"You'll find him lower down!" was the reply.

"I hope he's broken his neck!" Ed cut in.

But Cameron had not broken his neck. Instead, he had broken an arm, and one foot had been badly bruised by a falling stone. He was unconscious when the boys lifted him and laid him in an easier position.

The two men were at once searched for weapons and left for the time being to take care of themselves. There was no fear of their escaping, for one of Fenton's legs had sustained a compound fracture and Cameron's foot was badly injured.

"What next?" asked Will as the two boys stood facing the spot where they believed George, Sandy and Bert to be buried under many tons of rock.

"It seems as if we ought to do something for the boys!"

"I'm afraid it's too late!" replied Ed, dejectedly.

"We never can dig under those rocks without help," commented Will, "therefore, I think we'd better be on the watch for Tommy and Frank and the surgeon. They surely ought to be somewhere near the cottage by this time, if not already in it."

"If they've had such blooming bad luck as we have," Ed observed, "they're probably in jail somewhere! I don't think I ever saw anything in a worse mess! The very Old Nick seems to be after us!"

"This," Will observed with a grave smile, "is what we call a quiet little Boy Scout excursion! We have visited the Pictured Socks, the Everglades, the Great Continental Divide, the Hudson Bay country and got trapped in an anthracite mine in Pennsylvania since we started out on our quests for adventure."

"You seem to have found adventure all right!" smiled Ed.

"You bet we have!" replied Will.

The boys made still another inspection of the spot where the cliff had fallen, and thought that they heard a faint call from the inside.

"They are there!" cried Will. "I'm sure they're there, and alive!"

"But they can't live there very long!" suggested Ed. "So we'd better be doing something to get them, out!"

"The first thing to do," Will stated, "is to signal to the other fellows. I'm sure Tommy and Frank must be in with the surgeon before this!"

"There'll be plenty of work for the surgeon, I imagine," Ed added.

"I'm afraid so," Will admitted.

"But how are you going to signal to the cabin?" asked Ed.

"Indian smoke signals!" was the reply.

Almost before the words were out of Will's mouth, Ed was gathering both dry and green branches from the thicket.

"If the boys are at the cabin, or even on their way there," Will continued, "they'll be sure to see the signal, for the night is not so very dark now, and the land where we are is considerably higher than the moraine upon which the cabin is built. We'll have to get a blazing fire of dry wood and then pile on green branches."