He
dreaded lest the wave might attain such a height that he and his chum
would be swept from their perch, to be carried away, helpless victims
on the crest of the flood.
It was raining now, in sheets. The boys were quickly soaked to the
skin; but neither of them paid the least attention to this fact, which,
after all, was of minor Importance.
"Frank, do you think it's going to reach up here?" called Bob, as he
watched the rising line of water come within three feet of the ledge.
"I hope not," came the reply, and then Bob saw that his chum was moving
along the ledge looking carefully above as though in hopes of finding
it possible to climb higher, in case of necessity.
"Any chance of getting up the rocks, Frank?" he asked again, a minute
later.
"Mighty little, Bob," replied the other, dropping beside him; "how's
the water coming along?"
"Less'n two feet from us now, and still rising," reported Bob,
disconsolately.
"But it comes slowly, you notice," Frank declared, with hope in his
voice.
"I could just touch it the last time the lightning played; now I can
put my hand clear in it!" Bob called, uneasily.
Another minute passed. The lightning was of considerable assistance to
the trapped saddle boys, for it enabled them to see. Frank had lost
his lantern during the climb, as it was torn from his belt by a rock he
struck; so that only for this heavenly illumination they must have been
in utter darkness.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168