Then, down through one corner of the auditorium, fortunately in a place where no one was seated, crashing through the ceiling, came a ma.s.s of brick and mortar.

Before the echoes of that had died away there sounded another noise; a deep, dull sound, and the school again vibrated with the shock. Then the auditorium was in darkness, and through it came the voice of the janitor shouting:

"The tower has been wrecked and has fallen!"

CHAPTER XI

NED GETS A LETTER

For an instant silence followed the startling announcement, silence in which the wind seemed to join, for there came a lull in the gale. Then, as the gale resumed its furious blowing, the audience became fear-crazed and a mad rush ensued.

Women and girls were screaming at the tops of their voices. Men were shouting to one another to know what had happened. Boys were darting here and there seeking a means of escape from what they believed would prove a death-trap. The noise of bricks clattering to the floor could be heard and the school-house seemed, at least to the excited imaginations of some, to be on the point of toppling down.

The four chums, who were seated near each other, had jumped up at the first crash. Bart reached over to grab Alice and prevent, if possible, her being trampled under foot. Fenn had Jennie by the arm. Then the light from the moving picture machine, which had served to dispel the gloom, went out. The maddened rush became worse.

"Quick!" cried Frank. "Let's give the school yell! Maybe it will quiet the rush until we can turn on the lights! There's a switch on the wall here! Now, fellows altogether!"

His three chums heard him as if in a dream, but they comprehended.

"One, two, three!" cried Frank.

Then, above the noise of the gale, above the shrieks of the women and girls, above the hoa.r.s.e calls of frightened men, arose the yell, given with all the power of the lungs of the four boys:

"Ravabava--Havabava--Hick! Hick! He!

Dabavaba--Nabahaba--Snick! Snack! Snee!

Why do we thus loudly yell?

'Tis for our school: old Darewell!"

Never had the call been given under such circ.u.mstances. Never had it sounded more strangely. Never had it been more welcome.

For an instant there was a silence following the yell. It had momentarily drowned the cries from the panic-stricken ones. Before there was a chance for a continuance of the panic that had been halted, if only for an instant, Bart cried:

"There's no danger. Wait until the lights are turned on!"

In another moment Frank had reached the switch and the place was brilliant with the gleam from scores of incandescent lamps. The rush had been stopped, for, as the crowd looked about, they saw there was no immediate danger.

In one corner of the auditorium there was a gaping hole in the roof, where the top part of the tower had crashed through. The floor in that section was covered with bricks and mortar, and several seats were crushed, but the audience had crowded up front and no one was hurt.

A moment later some of those in charge of the entertainment hurried to the platform and made an announcement.

A hasty investigation showed, it was said, that the tower had fallen mostly outward instead of toward the school, which accounted for only a small part of it hitting the roof. Had the entire pile of masonry toppled over on the auditorium there might have been a great loss of life. As it was the main school was in no danger, but, for fear the structure might have been weakened it was decided best to dismiss the audience at once.

"That wind must be pretty strong," observed Bart as he and his chums, with Alice, Jennie, and some of the other girls, got outside.

"Oh! It certainly is!" cried Jennie as she stepped from the doorway.

"I'm being blown away."

The wind had caught her long cloak and whipped it up around her shoulders so that it acted like a sail. Jennie was being fairly carried along the street.

"There's your chance, Fenn!" cried Frank. "Rescue a maiden in distress."

Fenn did not stop to reply to his tormenter but caught Jennie by the arm and helped her to straighten her garment.

"n.o.ble youth!" exclaimed Bart. "You shall be suitably rewarded."

They all laughed, rather hysterically, it is true, at the nonsense talk, but it was a relief to their over-strained nerves for the shock of the accident had been a severe one.

They pa.s.sed along and, as they got beyond the shelter of the school the full force of the wind was felt. It was almost a hurricane, and it was all they could do to walk along.

"No wonder it blew the tower down," observed Ned. "Let's take a look at the wreck."

They walked around to the other side of the school. There, p.r.o.ne on the ground, though but a confused ma.s.s of bricks and mortar, was what had been the tower.

"There's the clock!" exclaimed Frank, as he saw the dial of the timepiece some distance from the big ma.s.s of masonry. "See, it stopped just at ten."

There were four dials to the clock, one for each side of the tower. The dials were of sheet iron with big gilt hands which were worked simultaneously by the one set of wheels and springs. This dial, to which Frank called attention, had fallen from its place, with the hands still attached to it, the rods to which they were fastened, and which served to turn them, having been cut off close to the back of the face.

"I'm going to take it home for a souvenir," Frank said. "If they want it back they can have it."

He picked up the dial, which was painted white with black numerals on it. As he did so he uttered an exclamation.

"What's the matter?" asked Ned.

"It's all mud, or something black," Frank replied. "I've got it all over my hands."

"Better let it alone," advised Bart. "The wind will blow it away, and you with it, if you try to carry it."

"I guess I can manage," Frank responded, and though the gale did get a good purchase on the flat surface of the dial which was two feet in diameter, Frank clung to it and took it home with him.

"See you to-morrow!" called Fenn to Frank, as the latter turned off on a street that led to his uncle's house. The others went in the opposite direction.

"We'll come and take a look at the ruins by daylight," suggested Frank.

"Good-night."

"Good-night," called his chums, and the girls.

"Queer sort of a relic he's got," observed Bart.

"It's just like him," Ned rejoined. "Frank's a queer chap anyhow."

"I think he's nice," remarked Alice.

"So do I," chimed in Jennie.