VI.
Arthur woke to find some one tugging at his shoulders, trying to draghim from beneath the heavy table, which had wedged itself acrosshis feet and pinned him fast, while a flying chair had struck himon the head and knocked him unconscious.
"Oh, come and help," Estelle's voice was callingdeliberately. "Somebody come and help! He's caught in here!"
She was sobbing in a combination of panic and some unknown emotion.
"Help me, please!" she gasped, then her voice broke despondently,but she never ceased to tug ineffectually at Chamberlain, tryingto drag him out of the mass of wreckage.
Arthur moved a little, dazedly.
"Are you alive?" she called anxiously. "Are you alive? Hurry, oh,hurry and wriggle out. The building's falling to pieces!"
"I'm all right," Arthur said weakly. "You get out before it allcomes down."
"I won't leave you," she declared "Where are you caught? Are youbadly hurt? Hurry, please hurry!"
Arthur stirred, but could not loosen his feet. He half-rolled over,and the table moved as if it had been precariously balanced, and slidheavily to one side. With Estelle still tugging at him, he managedto get to his feet on the slanting floor and stared about him.
Arthur continued to stare about.
"No danger," he said weakly. "Just the floor of the one room gaveway. The aftermath of the rock-flaw."
He made his way across the splintered flooring and piled-up chairs.
"We're on top of the safe-deposit vault," he said. "That's whywe didn't fall all the way to the floor below. I wonder how we'regoing to get down?"
Estelle followed him, still frightened for fear of the buildingfalling upon them. Some of the long floor-boards stretched overthe edge of the vault and rested on a tall, bronze grating thatprotected the approach to the massive strong-box. Arthur testedthem with his foot.
"They seem to be pretty solid," he said tentatively.
His strength was coming back to him every moment. He had been nomore than stunned. He walked out on the planking to the bronzegrating and turned.
"If you don't get dizzy, you might come on," he said. "We can swingdown the grille here to the floor."
Estelle followed gingerly and in a moment they were safely below. Thecorridor was quite empty.
"When the crash came," Estelle explained, her voice shaking withthe reaction from her fear of a moment ago, "every one thought thebuilding was coming to pieces, and ran out. I'm afraid they've allrun away."
"They'll be back in a little while," Arthur said quietly.
They went along the big marble corridor to the same western door,out of which they had first gone to see the Indian village. Asthey emerged into the sunlight they met a few of the people whohad already recovered from their panic and were returning.
A crowd of respectable size gathered in a few moments, all stillpale and shaken, but coming back to the building which was theirrefuge. Arthur leaned wearily against the cold stone. It seemed tovibrate under his touch. He turned quickly to Estelle.
"Feel this," he exclaimed.
She did so.
"I've been wondering what that rumble was," she said. "I've beenhearing it ever since we landed here, but didn't understand whereit came from."
"You hear a rumble?" Arthur asked, puzzled. "I can't hear anything."
"It isn't as loud as it was, but I hear it," Estelle insisted. "It'svery deep, like the lowest possible bass note of an organ."
"You couldn't hear the shrill whistle when we were coming here,"Arthur exclaimed suddenly, "and you can't hear the squeak of abat. Of course your ears are pitched lower than usual, and you canhear sounds that are lower than I can hear. Listen carefully. Doesit sound in the least like a liquid rushing through somewhere?"
"Y-yes," said Estelle hesitatingly. "Somehow, I don't quiteunderstand how, it gives me the impression of a tidal flow orsomething of that sort."
Arthur rushed indoors. When Estelle followed him she found himexcitedly examining the marble floor about the base of the vault.
"It's cracked," he said excitedly. "It's cracked! The vault roseall of an inch!"
Estelle looked and saw the cracks.
"What does that mean?"
"It means we're going to get back where we belong," Arthur criedjubilantly. "It means I'm on the track of the whole trouble.It means everything's going to be all right."
He prowled about the vault exultantly, noting exactly how the cracksin the flooring ran and seeing in each a corroboration of his theory.
"I'll have to make some inspections in the cellar," he went onhappily, "but I'm nearly sure I'm on the right track and can figureout a corrective."
"How soon can we hope to start back?" asked Estelle eagerly.
Arthur hesitated, then a great deal of the excitement ebbed fromhis face, leaving it rather worried and stern.
"It may be a month, or two months, or a year," he answeredgravely. "I don't know. If the first thing I try will work, itwon't be long. If we have to experiment, I daren't guess how longwe may be. But"--his chin set firmly--"we're going to get back."
Estelle looked at him speculatively. Her own expression grew alittle worried, too.
"But in a month," she said dubiously, "we--there is hardly any hopeof our finding food for two thousand people for a month, is there?"
"We've got to," Arthur declared. "We can't hope to get that muchfood from the Indians. It will be days before they'll dare to comeback to their village, if they ever come. It will be weeks beforewe can hope to have them earnestly at work to feed us, and that'sleaving aside the question of how we'll communicate with them, andhow we'll manage to trade with them. Frankly, I think everybody isgoing to have to draw his belt tight before we get through--if wedo. Some of us will get along, anyway."
Estelle's eyes opened wide as the meaning of his last sentencepenetrated her mind.
"You mean--that all of us won't--"
"I'm going to take care of you," Arthur said gravely, "but thereare liable to be lively doings around here when people begin torealize they're really in a tight fix for food. I'm going to getVan Deventer to help me organize a police band to enforce martiallaw. We mustn't have any disorder, that's certain, and I don'ttrust a city-bred man in a pinch unless I know him."
He stooped and picked up a revolver from the floor, left thereby one of the bank watchmen when he fled, in the belief that thebuilding was falling.