Part 18 (1/2)

”This way, Dan!” he shouted encouragingly. ”Follow me.”

Slos.h.i.+ng through water and mud, they reached the barrier fence and climbed over. The blinding sheet of rain all but blotted out a view of the pavement.

”We're safer here anyhow,” Brad said as they emerged from the woodland.

”Brother! Is this a storm?”

The rain showed no signs of slackening. However, now that the boys were in a cleared area, the wind seemed less menacing.

”It's dropping a little,” Brad observed, studying the treetops along the pavement. ”The crest of the storm probably has pa.s.sed.”

”But the rain is still wet,” Dan s.h.i.+vered. ”And it's steady. No sign of a let-up.”

Along the ditches, muddy water was rus.h.i.+ng at a furious rate, draining toward the nearby river.

The two boys scarcely knew which direction to go. They could recall no houses close by where they might seek shelter. The nearest habitation was Mr. Holloway's camp across the river, but they had no boat.

”There's a filling station up the road about a quarter of a mile!” Brad recalled, shouting to make himself heard above the roar of the wind.

”Let's go there!”

Dan nodded and followed his companion. Rain drove directly into their faces, closing off their view and making it difficult to walk.

”I sure wish a car would come along,” Brad muttered.

Now that they would have welcomed a ride, the busy highway suddenly had become a deserted thoroughfare.

Struggling on, the Cubs presently came to a stone bridge arching over a creek. Upon reaching it, the boys noticed that already its murky waters were within two inches of flooding the pavement.

”Wow!” Brad exclaimed, pausing to glance briefly at the raging torrent.

”She's coming up fast-and I mean fast!”

”Isn't this the same creek that flows through Mr. Silverton's property, Brad?”

”That's right.”

”If the log jam hasn't been cleared out before this, the water's likely to start backing up in the pheasant runs just as Mr. Hatfield predicted!”

”I'm afraid of it,” Brad agreed. ”Saul Dobbs ought to have looked after things. But if he failed to, well, this storm will sure make a mess of things at the farm.”

The boys stood a moment longer watching the torrent race beneath the stone archway. So fast was the creek rising that they could see the lapping waters nibbling away at the concrete. It would soon cover the pavement.

”Twenty minutes and the water will be running over the road,” Brad said.

”If it's clearing out at the pheasant farm, all well and good. But if it starts backing up there, Dobbs is in for plenty of trouble.”

Dan made no reply. The two boys pushed on through the slanting rain without meeting or being pa.s.sed by a car. Finally, soaked and muddy, they reached the filling station.

An attendant, seeing them coming, flung open the office door.

”You look like a couple of drowned rats,” he laughed. ”Here, shed those coats before you flood the place!”