“The restaurant stocks up in the afternoon, as most of its business is in the morning and at noon.  It only carries a day’s stock of foodstuffs, and the—­the cataclysm, or whatever it was, came at three o’clock.  There is practically nothing in the place.  We couldn’t make sandwiches for half the women that are caught with us, let alone the men.  Everybody will go hungry to-night.  There will be no breakfast to-morrow, nor anything to eat until we either make arrangements with the Indians for some supplies or else get food for ourselves.”

Arthur leaned his jaw on his hand and considered.  A slow flush crept over his cheek.  He was getting his fighting blood up.

At school, when he began to flush slowly his schoolmates had known the symptom and avoided his wrath.  Now he was growing angry with mere circumstances, but it would be none the less unfortunate for those circumstances.

“Well,” he said at last deliberately, “we’ve got to—­ What’s that?”

There was a great creaking and groaning.  Suddenly a sort of vibration was felt under foot.  The floor began to take on a slight slant.

“Great Heaven!” some one cried.  “The building’s turning over and we’ll be buried in the ruins!”

The tilt of the floor became more pronounced.  An empty chair slid to one end of the room.  There was a crash.

VI.

Arthur woke to find some one tugging at his shoulders, trying to drag him from beneath the heavy table, which had wedged itself across his feet and pinned him fast, while a flying chair had struck him on the head and knocked him unconscious.

“Oh, come and help,” Estelle’s voice was calling deliberately.  “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, trying to 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 all comes down.”

“I won’t leave you,” she declared “Where are you caught?  Are you badly 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 slid heavily to one side.  With Estelle still tugging at him, he managed to 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 gave way.  The aftermath of the rock-flaw.”

He made his way across the splintered flooring and piled-up chairs.