Just then he heard a sigh. It came from beneath an upturned cot at one side of the room. He investigated and saw a hand emerging from beneath the cot. In a few minutes he had raised the small bed and found an old man lying face downward on the floor.
"Help me out!" muttered the old man feebly.
Frank called to the others, and one by one they came scrambling through the window. Together, they raised the old man to his feet and set him down on the cot, which they turned to an upright position again. Painfully, the old fellow rubbed his aching joints.
"No bones broken," he said, at last. "I'm lucky I wasn't killed."
"You might have been crushed to death," Frank interposed.
"It's lucky you boys were near," he said. "I'd have frozen to death if I'd been left pinned under that cot. I mightn't have been found for days. But it takes a lot to kill Jadbury Wilson. I guess my time ain't come yet."
The old man looked around and smiled feebly at the lads. He was small but sturdy of frame, with kindly blue eyes and a gray beard.
"I've often thought it was dangerous to live in a place at the top of a cliff like that," he said. "There've been times when the wind was so strong I was afraid it would pick up my house and lift it clean out into the lake. But, somehow, it always stood up until to-day. It all came so suddenly I hardly knew what was happenin'. Mighty good thing the house landed right side up. How did you lads come to be near by?"
"We were on a skating trip and we got caught in the storm," Frank told him. "We took refuge at the foot of the cliff and we were standing there when we heard the crash. Then we heard some one call."
"That was me. I didn't think there was any use of hollerin', but I hollered just the same, although I didn't think there was a human soul within three miles."