"An earthquake!" Tom gasped.
Bud, meanwhile, clawed a handhold on a wire screen enclosing an air
compressor and pulled himself to his feet. But the next moment a third,
more violent tremor rocked the building, knocking him over. "The roof!
It's caving in!" he heard someone scream.
As his eyes flashed upward in panic, Bud caught a brief glimpse of the
ponderous test stand with the priceless telemeter tilting to one side.
An instant later it crashed over, pinning Mark Faber beneath it!
Bud threw up his arms to protect himself, but too late! A falling beam
caught him on the back of the head and the young flier blacked out.
For minutes, no one stirred among the wreckage. Then Tom, who had been
stunned by some falling debris, raised himself to a sitting position.
"Good night!" Tom's eyes focused in horror on the wreckage enveloped by
still-billowing dust.
The sky was visible through several gaping holes in the roof, which was
sagging dangerously on its supporting trusses. Only two thirds of the
walls were still standing.
Suddenly Tom stiffened in fear. "Bud!" The young inventor had just
noticed his friend lying pinned beneath a heavy beam nearby. _Was he
still breathing?_
Disregarding his own injuries, Tom hastily freed himself from the debris
and groped his way to Bud's side. With a desperate heave, he shoved the
beam away, then cradled Bud's head in his arm. His friend's eyelids
flickered.
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