"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. "Good thing the main shift of workers knocked off before this happened," Bud observed with a shudder. "There would've been a lot more casualties." "Look!" Tom pointed to a huge crevasse. "Right where we landed our Whirling Duck!" The boys exchanged rueful glances as they realized that the craft which had brought them to Faber Electronics--one of Tom's unique helijets--had been swallowed up in the gaping chasm. "No use fussing about it now," Tom said. "Come on, Bud! Let's see about getting help for Mr. Faber!" Despite the chaotic confusion, the boys managed to locate the plant superintendent--a harried, middle-aged man named Simkins--who was doing his best to restore order. Simkins, who had not been injured, informed them that electricians were rigging an emergency telephone line in order to get through to the nearby town of Harkness. "Mr. Faber is badly injured," Tom said. "Why not send a car? It's only a few miles away, isn't it?" "I'll send the plant nurse to him," Simkins said. "As for going to town, take a look at the parking lot." He pointed with a jerk of his thumb. The cars on the lot had been smashed into junk by bricks from a collapsing wall of one of the buildings. "And the only truck we had available was in that burning shed," the superintendent added bitterly. "Tough break," Tom sympathized. "Anyhow, we want to help. Got a job for us?" Simkins was only too glad to put Tom's quick mind and keen technical know-how to use. Within minutes, Tom was in charge of clearing away rubble and extricating anyone who might be trapped inside the buildings. Bud organized a fire-fighting crew to keep the blaze in the shed from spreading.