CHAPTER II

A Close Call

Borne down to the floor, blinded, dazed, the boys lay half buried beneath the wreckage, the rain beating down upon them, soaking them through and through.

What had happened? What was it that had come crashing down upon them from the sky, bringing destruction in its wake?

This question Garry Grayson asked himself confusedly as he rubbed his bruised head and tried painfully to extricate himself from the mass of wreckage.

He pulled one leg from beneath some boards and found with relief that he could move it. Encouraged by the test, he tried the other one.

"Nothing broken," he muttered. Then, his head clearing, he looked around him fearfully for his companions.

Rooster and Nick were emerging slowly, bewilderedly, from a pile of wreckage. Bill was sitting on the floor, head buried in his arms, so dazed that he did not know what was going on around him.

All this Garry took in at a glance. And he saw also what it was that had crashed down upon them from the sky, almost completely demolishing Peeble's little cabin.

For an airplane, or what remained of one, was perched upon the wreckage, its damaged wings half supported by the tough, bending boughs of trees on either side of the ruined hut.

Garry looked about him for the pilot, and saw at some distance a pitiful, huddled figure that showed no signs of life.

He staggered to his feet and was about to go to the aid of the unfortunate fellow when a horrible thought stopped him.

Rooster and Nick were safe. Bill was rubbing his head as though his addled brains were getting ready to function again.

But Ted Dillingham! Where was Ted?

He was nowhere in sight. Garry rushed forward to a place where the timbers lay thickest, imagining Ted crushed, mangled, perhaps dead. Even as he did so, there came an explosion, and a darting, red flame shot out beneath the battered body of the airplane.

Fire! And somewhere beneath the wreckage lay Ted at the mercy of the flames!

Garry yelled hoarsely to his befuddled companions.

"Ted is under there somewhere!" he cried. "Come on, boys! Work fast! We've got to get him out!"

His chums' heads cleared like magic, and the boys worked with feverish haste while the fire crept ever closer. They called Ted's name over and over again as they tore at the rough boards, searching for him.

At last came a faint answer, and their efforts were redoubled. At last they found Ted, pinned helplessly beneath a pile of boards, only his head visible!

"Hurry, fellows, hurry!" cried Garry in agony. "Quick, before the fire gets at him!"

Garry Grayson, now fourteen years old, had been born and brought up in Lenox, a thriving town with a population of about fifteen thousand. His father was Joseph S. Grayson, a prominent lawyer of the town and a leader in all its civic activities. Mrs. Grayson was a sweet, wholesome woman, intensely proud of her son Garry and his twin sister, Ella, a merry, pretty girl, whose chief delight was in teasing her brother, of whom, however, she was extremely fond. The family lived in a handsome home at the corner of Hill and Maple Streets in a choice residential section of Lenox.

Garry was strong and well built for his age, and a natural leader in all boyish sports, especially football, of which he was an ardent devotee. He had a frank, sunny face and a manly, straightforward disposition. Chief among his friends were Nick Danter and Ted Dillingham, whose respective fathers were partners in the largest department store in Lenox, Rooster Long and Bill Sherwood. They had been drawn together by mutual liking, and this friendship had been further cemented by the interest that all took in the game of football.

But if Garry had many warm friends, he also had some enemies, of whom the principal one was Sandy Podder, a loose-principled, dissipated youth somewhat older than Garry and his chums, with whom Garry had frequently come in conflict, due to Sandy's low tricks and scheming. To these were added Chat Johns and Bud Warding, bullies of the same stripe who had been in Garry's class at the Hill Street Grammar School. Later came Lent Stewart, son of a rich broker, who, despite the fact that Garry had once saved him from drowning, was unfriendly and found in Sandy Podder a congenial pal and abettor of his plans.

How Garry's enthusiasm for football prompted him to organize a team in his grammar school; the trials and tribulations of the eleven as it was gradually licked into shape; how Garry thwarted the plans of Sandy Podder and some traitors in his own school; what difficulties he met and what obstacles he surmounted before he led his team to victory over the other grammar schools of the town--all these and other adventures are narrated in the first volume of this series entitled: "Garry Grayson's Hill Street Eleven; or, The Football Boys of Lenox."

The next fall Garry entered the Lenox high school, accompanied by Nick, Ted, Rooster and Bill. Here they found themselves bucking against the tradition that no freshman could be permitted to play on the regular football team. They did get places, however, on the scrubs, and gave the regulars all they could do to hold their own.

Sickness depleted the Lenox High regular team. That gave Garry his chance, and how his wonderful playing helped Lenox to the championship of the High School League is fully told in the second book of the series, entitled: "Garry Grayson at Lenox High; or, The Champions of the Football League."

Now to return to the frantic boys as they tossed the boards aside to free their imprisoned comrade while the flames crept ever nearer.

"Buck up, Ted, old boy," Garry cried cheerfully. "We'll have you out of there now in a jiffy."

"I know you will," replied Ted gamely in a tone of confidence that he was far from feeling.

Now the rain, at which they had so grumbled a little while before, did them a good turn. Under the torrents that were by this time falling, the hastening fire began to relax some of its speed. It was this alone that made it possible for them at last to drag their comrade from under the last of the boards and carry him out into the open air. And never was the cool air so sweet as at that moment!

"Are you hurt anywhere, Ted?" asked Garry anxiously, as they propped the lad up against a tree.

"N-no, I guess not," gasped Ted, trying hard to summon up a smile.

Garry ran his hands over Ted's arms and legs and was infinitely relieved to find that no bones were broken.

"You see some of the boards formed a sort of tent over me so that I didn't get the full weight of the timbers," explained Ted.

"He's all right, fellows. We'll leave him here till he gets his breath back while we go and look after the pilot," announced Garry.

"I'm going too!" exclaimed Ted, seeing for the first time the still figure of the pilot. But an attempt to get to his feet showed him that first he must get a little rest and regain his strength, for his had been no light experience.

The others hurried over to the limp form of the aviator. He lay in a crumpled heap, and as the boys bent over him they feared for a moment that the worst had happened; that he was dead.

Big Bill Sherwood turned him over on his back, pulled open his leathern jacket, and slipped a hand within his shirt. The boys looked on with hearts stirring with fear and pity.

Slowly a relieved smile stole over Bill's face.

"I can feel his heart thumping," he said. "The poor fellow's a long way from being dead yet."

As though to prove the truth of the statement, the man opened his eyes and stared vacantly around him. Then he sat up suddenly, freeing himself from Bill's supporting arm.

"The wires!" he cried, wildly. "One is broken. I must fix it, quick! Quick!" Then with a groan: "Too late! Too late!" He was evidently recalling the fearful moment of the plunge. "She's falling! Those trees! How close they are! The trees!"