Tim looked at the situation and shook his head.
“That’s right. We don’t dare disturb that or the whole thing will go to pieces. An’ that hole ain’t large enough for a man t’ git down into unless—” he paused and looked at Jeff. And Jeff at the same moment got the same idea. He stepped closer and looked at the hole.
“I’m smaller than the rest of you. Perhaps—perhaps—maybe I could get down and work my way into where he is if—if the whole thing don’t cave in on me before I get there.”
“Bully for you. That’s nerve all right,” said Tim, beaming with almost fatherly pride on Jeff, “on’y you got to make it in a hurry and git out again before the fire gets much closer.”
Jeff paused a moment to consider.
“Suppose he’s a big man. Then what’ll I do? Can’t get him through that hole if he’s as big as you fellows are,” he said.
“Well, let’s hope he ain’t. Anyhow if you can get him up near that hole and climb out yourself, we’ll grab hold of him and try and pry that truck and bumper apart long enough to yank him through. Then the whole thing can go to pot after that. It’s a chance all the way ’round but it’s better than letting t’ poor chap be burned to death down in there, which he will be in a mighty few minutes.”
That thought moved Jeff to action. He took off his heavy coat and his lighter one underneath. Thus stripped for action he stepped down into the narrow opening between the up-ended truck and the heavy steel bumper, and slowly, cautiously let himself down until presently he found himself standing on something solid directly underneath the almost tottering truck. In the semi-darkness of the wreckage he took a survey of the situation, then shouted:
“Hello, down there! where are you! I’m coming down to get you.”
A groan and a feeble attempt at a call sounded beneath him and to his right.