Slowly, cautiously, Jeff began to feel his way downward through the débris, half crawling, half climbing, but always feeling first for a secure footing for he knew that to step on anything insecure might cause him to fall and his weight precipitated violently against the wreckage on either side might cause the pile to collapse and send the teetering truck and the heavy bumper down on top of him and the poor victim of the wreck below.

It was almost painful progress, he moved so slowly, and it was a journey made hideous by the perils that were imminent. Already smoke curls were being drawn through the wreckage by the draughts down here, and the semi-darkness now became shadowy with sinister flickering light that showed between the jagged pieces of timber. Jeff knew that the fast moving fire was not so very far off. It would be terrible to be pinned in down there himself and burned to death along with the man he hoped to rescue. The very thought made cold chills creep down his back and perspiration stand out on his forehead. And added to this was the terrible horror of being crushed to death under some piece of timber or steel work that a slip of his foot might dislodge. Jeff had to exert all the will power he possessed to keep himself from any hurried action or any suggestion of panic, for he knew that the slightest error in judgment on his part might prove fatal to himself and the helpless man somewhere down there below him.

Foot by foot he climbed downward. Twice he paused to shout and each time the groan and feeble voice that answered him was nearer. A third time he paused and called. Then he waited. But no answer came. Again and again he called, and then with a shock it was borne in upon him that the man he was after had either become unconscious or had passed out while he was trying to get to him. Jeff came nearer panic then than ever before. He looked frantically about him and groped with outstretched hands hoping to come in contact with the man.

Suddenly from above a flood of light filled the wreckage. Jeff looked up hastily to discover that the wreckers had brought an electric battery lamp and were shining the rays down through the hole through which he had come. Eagerly Jeff looked about him, searching, hoping. Then with a start he discovered a hand protruding from beneath a board just below him. Beyond the board he could make out the outlines of a painfully twisted body, inert and apparently lifeless.

With a shout to the men up above, Jeff began to climb down again and presently he crouched beside the man. Hastily, eagerly he felt inside a flannel shirt. He was still alive but breathing heavily. As carefully as the limited space would permit Jeff picked up the limp form and gathered it in his arms. Then he started to climb once more.

CHAPTER IX
TO THE RESCUE

But if the journey downward called for caution, the climb back made care even more imperative. Jeff had to hope that each timber he stepped upon would bear double his own weight. He had literally to feel every step of the way.

And to add to the terrors of the situation, smoke was drawing through the wreckage now in veritable gusts, and Jeff could hear the roaring crackle of the fire close at hand. Indeed the atmosphere down there between the timbers was hot and choking with gas and smoke. He was tired, too. Almost exhausted. Every step upward was an effort. His head bothered him. It seemed too heavy for his shoulders, and there was a strange buzzing sound inside. He wondered vaguely whether he was going to collapse himself. He realized with a sense of horror that if he did he would be burned to death in ten minutes. That thought seemed to clear his head for a moment, and he climbed more hastily and with less caution, trusting entirely to good fortune that he did not dislodge any of the wreckage. Upward he struggled. Presently he found himself once more directly underneath the tottering truck with its heavy iron wheels. The opening was just above him. He saw eager hands reaching downward through it. He wondered vaguely, whether the man he carried was too big to get through the opening. He hoped not.

Somehow he stood upright and lifted the limp form toward the hands that grasped through the hole. Then his burden was lifted out of his arms and he saw the apparently lifeless body with its grotesquely dangling legs moved slowly upward through the hole and disappear from view. The hands reached downward again and he reached up to meet them. A moment he stood there, and tried to master himself. His head was spinning, his eyes hurt and his lungs seemed bursting for the want of fresh air. He tried to think that the ordeal was nearly over; that in just a minute he would be out into the cool night once more where he could gulp down great lungfuls of pure air. He exerted every bit of will power he had to master himself, for somehow he knew he was slipping, that he was fainting, that he was on the verge of collapse down there underneath the heavy up-ended railroad truck. And he knew that if he did collapse no help could save him from a certain and horrible death.