As his eyes flashed upward in panic, Bud caught a brief glimpse of the ponderous test stand with the priceless telemeter tilting to one side.  An instant later it crashed over, pinning Mark Faber beneath it!

Bud threw up his arms to protect himself, but too late!  A falling beam caught him on the back of the head and the young flier blacked out.

For minutes, no one stirred among the wreckage.  Then Tom, who had been stunned by some falling debris, raised himself to a sitting position.

“Good night!” Tom’s eyes focused in horror on the wreckage enveloped by still-billowing dust.

The sky was visible through several gaping holes in the roof, which was sagging dangerously on its supporting trusses.  Only two thirds of the walls were still standing.

Suddenly Tom stiffened in fear.  “Bud!” The young inventor had just noticed his friend lying pinned beneath a heavy beam nearby. Was he still breathing?

Disregarding his own injuries, Tom hastily freed himself from the debris and groped his way to Bud’s side.  With a desperate heave, he shoved the beam away, then cradled Bud’s head in his arm.  His friend’s eyelids flickered.

“Are you all right?” Tom asked fearfully.

The answer came in a groan.  “O-oh!...  Wow!...  What hit me?”

“You got conked by a falling timber.  Or grazed, at least,” Tom added thankfully.  “If that beam had landed square on your noggin, even a rock-head like you couldn’t have survived!”

Bud managed to grin.  “We grow ’em tough out in California where I come from!” he joked.

Somewhat shakily, Bud got to his feet with Tom’s assistance.  Both boys were heartsick as they surveyed the damaged laboratory, wondering where to begin rescue operations.

“It was a quake,” Bud stated grimly.  He had heard about the great San Francisco earthquake from his grandfather, and had no doubt about the nature of the tremors.

Just then Tom glimpsed a body protruding from under the wreckage of the telemetering device.

“Mr. Faber!” he gasped.

The two boys scrambled through the clutter of debris toward the spot where the test stand had been erected.  Bud seized a slender, steel I beam and managed to pry up the wreckage while Tom carefully extricated Mr. Faber.

The scientist seemed to be badly injured.  “We’d better not try to move him,” Tom decided.  “We’ll get an ambulance.”

Of the four other company engineers, two were now stirring and partly conscious.  The boys found a first-aid cabinet and gave what help they could to them and the other two men.  Then Tom taped a bandage on Bud’s scalp wound.

“Let’s see if we can find a telephone and call the local hospital,” Tom said.

“Right!” Bud responded.

They picked their way through the wreckage and emerged on a scene of frightful destruction.  The main plant building of Faber Electronics had been partially demolished by the quake.  Power lines were down and an outlying storage shed was ablaze.  Dazed and panic-stricken survivors were wandering around aimlessly or rushing about to assist the injured.