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PAGE 19

The Runaway Skyscraper
by [?]

There was no sound. The women began to look even more frightened. The men shuffled their feet uneasily, and looked uncomfortably at one another. Van Deventer appeared on the scene, puffing a little from his haste.

The door opened again and Arthur came out. He was carrying something in his hands. He had put his revolver aside and looked somewhat foolish but very much delighted.

“The food question is settled,” he said happily. “Look!”

He held out the object he carried. It was a bird, apparently a pigeon of some sort. It seemed to have been stunned, but as Arthur held it out it stirred, then struggled, and in a moment was flapping wildly in an attempt to escape.

“It’s a wood-pigeon,” said Arthur. “They must fly after dark sometimes. A big flock of them ran afoul of the tower and were dazed by the lights. They’ve broken a lot of windows, I dare say, but a great many of them ran into the stonework and were stunned. I was outside the tower, and when I came in they were dropping to the ground by hundreds. I didn’t know what they were then, but if we wait twenty minutes or so I think we can go out and gather up our supper and breakfast and several other meals, all at once.”

Estelle had appeared and now reached out her hands for the bird.

“I’ll take care of this one,” she said. “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to see if there aren’t some more stunned in the other offices?”

* * * * *

In half an hour the electric stoves of the restaurant were going at their full capacity. Men, cheerfully excited men now, were bringing in pigeons by armfuls, and other men were skinning them. There was no time to pluck them, though a great many of the women were busily engaged in that occupation.

As fast as the birds could be cooked they were served out to the impatient but much cheered castaways, and in a little while nearly every person in the place was walking casually about the halls with a roasted, broiled, or fried pigeon in his hands. The ovens were roasting pigeons, the frying-pans were frying them, and the broilers were loaded down with the small but tender birds.

The unexpected solution of the most pressing question cheered every one amazingly. Many people were still frightened, but less frightened than before. Worry for their families still oppressed a great many, but the removal of the fear of immediate hunger led them to believe that the other problems before them would be solved, too, and in as satisfactory a manner.

Arthur had returned to his office with four broiled pigeons in a sheet of wrapping-paper. As he somehow expected, Estelle was waiting there.

“Thought I’d bring lunch up,” he announced. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving!” Estelle replied, and laughed.

The whole catastrophe began to become an adventure. She bit eagerly into a bird. Arthur began as hungrily on another. For some time neither spoke a word. At last, however, Arthur waved the leg of his second pigeon toward his desk.

“Look what we’ve got here!” he said.

Estelle nodded. The stunned pigeon Arthur had first picked up was tied by one foot to a paper-weight.

“I thought we might keep him for a souvenir,” she suggested.

“You seem pretty confident we’ll get back, all right,” Arthur observed. “It was surely lucky those blessed birds came along. They’ve heartened up the people wonderfully!”

“Oh, I knew you’d manage somehow!” said Estelle confidently.

“I manage?” Arthur repeated, smiling. “What have I done?”

“Why, you’ve done everything,” affirmed Estelle stoutly. “You’ve told the people what to do from the very first, and you’re going to get us back.”

Arthur grinned, then suddenly his face grew a little more serious.

“I wish I were as sure as you are,” he said. “I think we’ll be all right, though, sooner or later.”