He managed to get to his feet, fighting his way clear of the rubbish, and the first sight that met his eyes was an arm, sticking out of the débris near by. He seized the outstretched hand and dragged the owner to safety, discovering that it was his brother Joe.
By this time the others were beginning to extricate themselves, and within a few minutes all five boys, covered with dust from head to foot, had scrambled out to the clear floor in the middle of the hall. No one was injured, although Joe and Jerry complained of bruises about the head and shoulders.
“Let’s get out of here!” exclaimed Chet, as soon as he could get his breath. “I’m not going to fool around this house any longer.” He looked about him for some means of escape.
“I don’t think it’s very healthy myself,” Frank agreed. He saw a door at the side of the hall and, going over, tried to open it.
But the door was locked fast, and although he kicked at it and shoved against the panels with all his strength he was unable to budge it.
“There’s a window,” declared Joe. “Let’s break our way out.”
The window was boarded over, but the glass was already shattered, so Chet and Jerry, picking up rocks that had tumbled down in the débris from the walls and ceiling, pounded at the boards.
“We’d better keep moving,” advised Biff Hooper. “Perhaps the rest of the place will start caving in on us.”
There was a splintering sound as one of the boards fell loose, revealing the rain-soaked trees and bushes outside. Another onslaught with the rocks and another board fell away, leaving a space sufficient to admit of the passage of a human body.
“Gee, that looks good to me!”