Free A Will to Survive by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

dead tree might let it fall.
    Joe stretched his arms to either side, blocking the trail. “Hold it, everybody,” he said.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Frank asked, hurrying to Joe’s side. “Oh—I see.”
    Kevin, the boy in the black T-shirt, darted past Joe’s arm. “I’m going to get to those ducks first,” he bragged, breaking into a trot.
    â€œHey, wait!” Joe shouted. “Come back!” He and Frank started after the boy.
    Laughing, Kevin ran faster. As he neared the leaning tree trunk, he tripped and fell on his stomach. With horror, Joe saw the trunk start to fall. Kevin was lying stunned, directly in its path.

9 The Million-Dollar Log
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    Frank saw the danger instantly. He sprang forward like an Olympic runner pushing off from the starting block. As his powerful legs carried him along the leaf-strewn trail, his brain was doing a series of complex problems in rate, time, and distance. Could he reach Kevin before the tree completed its deadly arc?
    Joe was matching him stride for stride. He started to bend forward at the waist and stretch his arms out in front of him. Frank suddenly realized what he meant to do. He was planning to grab Kevin by the legs and tow him out of danger. It might work . . . but the timing was so tight that even a moment’s delay could bring disaster.
    For a fraction of a second, Frank considered helping Joe by grabbing one of Kevin’s legs. No—therisk was too great. Instead of helping, he might make Joe’s job harder. There were two ways to save Kevin. Joe wanted to move the boy away from the danger. Frank wanted to move the danger away from the boy.
    The instant he made his decision, Frank put it into action. He visualized the tree trunk as an opposing ball carrier nearing the end zone. Tucking his chin against his chest, he dug in his toes and charged forward. His left shoulder struck the tree a solid blow. He kept his feet churning. In his mind he heard his coach yelling, “Through the runner! Tackle through the runner!”
    Moments later Frank was sprawled on the ground next to the tree. The force of his attack had made it swivel on its lower end and fall along the trail instead of across it. His shoulder ached. He noticed half a dozen scratches on his arms and hands, but he didn’t feel them . . . yet. He pushed himself up and looked around. Joe was a couple of yards away, helping an unhurt Kevin to his feet.
    â€œI-I-I’m sorry,” the shaken boy stammered. “I didn’t mean . . . I don’t know what happened.”
    â€œI think I do,” Frank muttered under his breath. Aloud, he said, “Rahsaan, why don’t you and the group go ahead? Joe and I will stay here and take care of clearing the trail.”
    Rahsaan gave Frank a troubled look, but he tookthe suggestion. Soon he and the group of kids were on their way.
    â€œOkay, let’s get to work,” Frank said. “Why don’t you check the trail. I’ll concentrate on those branches that were holding up the tree.”
    â€œYou don’t think it was an accident,” Joe said.
    Frank pointed at the fallen log. “Look—dirt and traces of decay all along one side,” he said. “It was lying on the ground for quite a while. Once they’re down, dead trees don’t get up again unless somebody helps.”
    While Joe scanned the trail, Frank leaned back to look up at the place where the dead tree had been. It was easy to find. The bark of the tree that was still standing was deeply scratched just above a broken branch. The only section of the branch that looked strong enough to hold up a log was right next to the trunk.
    â€œThe log must have been propped up there,” Frank said to himself. “Then, for some reason, it rolled outward. The branch bent, then broke. The log fell. That’s all clear enough . . . but what made it start to roll,