LITMIR.BIZ

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come a long distance to find them," returned Dave, and his tone of voice showed his relief. "Where are they?"

      "They left the camp right after dinner an' they ain't back yet. When you called I thought it was one of 'em, although they didn't expect to be back much before supper-time. But now it's rainin' I guess they'll come back sooner."

      "How long have they been here?"

      "Most a week now, I guess. I didn't come till day before yesterday. I didn't have nothin' to do an' they give me a job, cookin' an' like that," returned the man.

      He invited Dave to make himself at home, and our hero was glad enough to go inside and take off the wet raincoat and also his shoes and socks. The baggage belonging to Phil and the others was in the cabin, and he helped himself to dry garments and a dry pair of slippers.

      "We are all school chums," he told the man. "My name is Dave Porter."

      "Oh, I heard 'em talkin' about you!" cried the camp-worker, and then said his own name was Jerry Blutt, and that he was from Tegley, just across the Canadian border.

      "We are not far from the border here, are we?" asked our hero.

      "About six miles, thet's all," answered Jerry Blutt, and this reply gave Dave another idea. More than likely Buster and the others had chosen this spot so that, if pursued by the officers of the law, they could flee into Canada.

      Jerry Blutt said the three lads had spent their time in various ways, occasionally going fishing and swimming. They had also written some letters and gone to the railroad station to mail them in the box placed there for that purpose.

      "Have they been having a good time?" asked Dave, curiously.

      "I can't say as to that, Mr. Porter. They did seem mighty worried over something," answered the camp worker, and from this our hero felt certain that the man had not been let into the secret of why the runaways were there at all.

      Half an hour went by and it continued to rain as hard as ever, while the sky remained dark and the wind blew with more or less violence. Time and again Dave went to the cabin door, to peer out into the storm, but each time he turned back disappointed. His chums were not yet in sight.

      "They'll be surprised to see me," he thought. "I wonder if they will listen to reason and go back with me? Supposing they refuse to return? I'd hate to go back alone."

      Then he questioned Jerry Blutt about the dam above the Falls. The man shrugged his shoulders.

      "It ain't safe, so they tell me," he said. "But it's been that way a long time, so maybe it won't break away yet awhile. But I'd hate to be on the river when she does go."

      "Are there any other camps on this island?" went on our hero.

      "Not now. There was some other folks, two or three parties, I was told, but they all moved out yesterday an' the day before. Maybe they got afraid o' the dam," concluded the camp-worker.

      CHAPTER XXIV

      OUT IN THE STORM

      "This is getting to be something fierce!"

      It was Dave who uttered the words, about five o'clock in the afternoon. He was looking out of the door of the cabin, and beside him stood Jerry Blutt.

      The storm had kept up without intermission, the rain coming down in a perfect torrent, and the wind blowing in fitful gusts from the east. It was raw and depressing, and our hero could not help but shiver as he looked out on the turbulent waters of the river.

      "It's a pity them fellers ain't got back," said the camp-worker, with a slow shake of his head. "It ain't nice to be out in sech a downpour as this, an' with sech a wind! Might a tree blow down on 'em!" And he shook his head again.

      Dave was even more distressed than the man. He could not get that dam out of his mind. Such a heavy fall of rain would certainly cause a great flow of water, and if the structure was weak, most anything bad was liable to happen.

      "As soon as the boys get back I'll urge them to leave here," he told himself. "If that dam breaks we want to be on high ground, where the flood can't reach us."

      "'Pears to me like the river was gittin' putty high," remarked Jerry Blutt, a little later, as he watched the water in the cove closely.

      "Well, it would rise some with all this rain coming down," returned Dave.

      "So it might,--but I don't know. I wish this camp was on the shore, instid o' this island."

      "So do I," answered Dave, bluntly.

      A fire had been started in the stove and a lantern lit, and Jerry Blutt rather reluctantly began preparations for the evening meal. But he kept peering out of the doorway of the cabin, and from the lean-to, and his eyes always rested on the river, with its rain-swept, swollen surface.

      "I don't like it at all!" he said, finally. "I wish we had moved over to the shore."

      "Don't you think it is safe to stay here?"

      "It ain't as safe as it might be. If I was alone----" The man stopped short.

      "What would you do?"

      "I hate to say it, but I think I'd go over to the shore, till the storm was over and I knew jest how thet dam was a-goin' to act."

      "Well, I don't blame you," answered Dave. "And if you want to go, go ahead."

      "Want me to go alone?"

      "If you wish to go, yes."

      "But it ain't no safer fer you than it is fer me."

      "That's so, too. But I want to see those other fellows--in fact, I must see them. If I went to the shore I might miss them."

      "You could come back later on."

      "But I want to warn them of the danger from the dam."

      "You could write a letter and stick it up where they couldn't help but see it. Then---- What's that?"

      The camp-worker stopped short, as a distant cry reached their ears, sounding out above the wind. An instant later the cry was repeated.

      "That is Ben Basswood's voice!" cried Dave. "They must be coming back!"

      Soon another voice sounded out, and our hero recognized Buster Beggs's tones. He ran to the cabin door. All was dark outside, and the rain was being driven in sheets by the wind.

      "Hello! hello!" he yelled, and catching up the lantern, he swung it out in one direction and another. Then he saw two forms approaching on the run, each dripping with water.

      "Ben! And Buster!"

      "Why, if it isn't Dave!"

      "Where in the world did you come from?"

      "Where is Phil?" demanded our hero.

      "He is somewhere behind us," answered Buster. "Oh, what a time we've had!" and entering the cabin, the fat youth sank down on a bench all but exhausted.

      "We've had to tramp for over two miles in this rain," explained Ben. "And of course we had to ford to the island. Say, the current is something fierce now! And the water is getting higher every minute!" he added.

      "Did you say Phil was behind you?" demanded Dave. He still held the lantern on high.

      "I thought he was--sure, he must be," answered Ben. "Give him a hail, will you? I'm too tired," and he sank on the bench beside Buster.

      "Phil! Phil!" yelled our hero, at the top of his lungs. "This way! This way!" and he swung the lantern to the right and left.

      "Did you say

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