And then with an appalling sound of splitting timbers the whole structure collapsed and fell upon him.
So suddenly did this happen that Blythe had scarcely braced himself over Roy’s body when both were buried under the fallen debris. Nor had the scouts at the edge of the roof wholly escaped; several who had not jumped quickly enough and far enough received slight cuts and bruises from the falling timbers.
Scrambling to their feet they called to the victims who were pinned unseen beneath the wreckage, starting at the same time to haul away the debris. There was no answer from beneath.
“What did he do? What did he do it for?” one asked.
“Why didn’t Roy get from under?”
“Search me; hurry up, pull the stuff off them.”
“Blythe is crazy.”
“Sure he is.”
“He didn’t think fast enough; he’s not to blame. Hurry up.”
“Roy was crazy, you mean.”