“Say!” whispered Jimmy, excitedly, “Larry has picked up a lot of new stuff since he was at Ocean Point. That was fine, wasn’t it?”
“Keep still,” whispered Joe, fiercely. “We want to hear every bit of this.”
Jimmy subsided, and they all listened with keen delight as Larry imitated a host of feathered songsters, each one so true to life that the audience applauded again and again. At last Larry 97 exhausted his repertoire, and for the first time appeared in the open, emerging from behind the trunk of a tree. He was heartily applauded, and as he bowed his way off the stage, the spotlight shifted, and Tim came onto the stage like a whirlwind, arms and legs flying as he did a complicated clog dance. At the most furious part Larry joined him, and they danced together, keeping such perfect time and going through such identical motions that it seemed as though they must be automatons actuated by the same string.
As a spectacular finale to the act, each one was supposed to make a dash for one of the property trees in the background, climb up it and disappear in the branches as the curtain fell. With a final wild gyration that brought spontaneous applause from the audience, each one made for his appointed tree, and started up.
Everything went as usual until Larry had almost reached the branches. Suddenly there came a cracking sound, the artificial tree swayed and tottered, and, amid horrified cries from the spectators, crashed to the stage, bringing down others on top of it as it fell. The radio boys had just time to see Larry lying, white and senseless, among the ruins when the curtain descended quickly, shutting off the scene of the accident from the audience.
So suddenly had the thing happened that at first 98 the boys could hardly believe the evidence of their eyes. For a few moments they gazed at one another in horrified silence, and then, as though all were moved simultaneously by the same thought, they rushed down the aisle and, before the ushers could stop them, climbed onto the stage. It took them a few seconds, that seemed like hours, to find their way behind the scenes to the place where the accident had occurred.
Tim, aided by several stage hands, was frantically trying to release his partner from the heavy pieces of scenery that held him pinned down. Bob and his friends fell to the work of rescue with every ounce of energy and strength that they possessed, but, work as they did, it was a considerable time before they at last managed to free their unfortunate friend.
A doctor had been sent for, and by the time Larry was laid, still unconscious, on a cot, the physician had arrived. As he made his examination his face grew more and more serious, and he shook his head doubtfully.
“He’s pretty badly hurt, I’m afraid,” he said. “We must get him to a hospital as soon as possible. I have my car outside, and if some of you will carry him out, I’ll take him there.”
In sorrowful silence Tim and the radio boys carried their injured friend out to the doctor’s automobile. Tim got in with him, and Larry was 99 whirled away to the hospital, where he faced a grim fight for life.