"Are you all right?" Tom asked fearfully.
The answer came in a groan. "O-oh!... Wow!... What hit me?"
"You got conked by a falling timber. Or grazed, at least," Tom added
thankfully. "If that beam had landed square on your noggin, even a
rock-head like you couldn't have survived!"
Bud managed to grin. "We grow 'em tough out in California where I come
from!" he joked.
Somewhat shakily, Bud got to his feet with Tom's assistance. Both boys
were heartsick as they surveyed the damaged laboratory, wondering where
to begin rescue operations.
"It was a quake," Bud stated grimly. He had heard about the great San
Francisco earthquake from his grandfather, and had no doubt about the
nature of the tremors.
Just then Tom glimpsed a body protruding from under the wreckage of the
telemetering device.
"Mr. Faber!" he gasped.
The two boys scrambled through the clutter of debris toward the spot
where the test stand had been erected. Bud seized a slender, steel
I beam and managed to pry up the wreckage while Tom carefully extricated
Mr. Faber.
The scientist seemed to be badly injured. "We'd better not try to move
him," Tom decided. "We'll get an ambulance."
Of the four other company engineers, two were now stirring and partly
conscious. The boys found a first-aid cabinet and gave what help they
could to them and the other two men. Then Tom taped a bandage on Bud's
scalp wound.
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