"And the water's creeping up fast," Brad said, gazing anxiously at the pheasant pens which already were beginning to flood.

"A nice mess!" the sportsman muttered. "Half of my pheasants will be lost if I don't get them out of the fields."

"Can't we help?" Dan offered.

"Yes, I'll need you and anyone else I can get. This will be a big job.

We've got to work fast to keep ahead of the rising water."

Smashing a gla.s.s pane at the rear door of the foreman's dwelling, Mr.

Silverton went inside to telephone.

"I'm trying to round up men," he explained a few minutes later to Brad and Dan. "But at best it will take an hour for anyone to get here. And it's an awkward time-close to the dinner hour."

"All the Cubs would help if I could get word to them," Dan said eagerly.

"I can use anyone, and I'll pay well for the work. The vital thing is to get help fast."

"Say, Mr. Hatfield should be showing up at the old logging road exit to relieve us of our stint!" Brad exclaimed. "Dan, if you could reach him-"

"I'll go after him," Dan agreed instantly. "If he isn't there, I'll call him from the filling station."

"If you cut through the woods, be careful not to be trapped by the flood waters," Mr. Silverton warned as Dan started away. "Keep well to the north of the creek."

Leaving Brad to help the sportsman, Dan set off through the woods at a fast dog trot.

Shadows were deepening among the trees, but he kept his sense of direction. Circling around the flooded area, he struck the logging road at a point well beyond the clogged point of the stream.

To the right he could hear the rush and roar of the torrent which raced toward the river. Unless the log jam gave away or the crest of the flood was soon past, he knew that in a short while the entire side road would be under water.

His shoes and clothing caked with mud, Dan presently came out at the rail fence barrier. A familiar looking car, which had pulled up on the other side of the paved highway, was just starting away.

"That's Mr. Hatfield's automobile!" Dan thought. "If only I can catch him before he drives away!"

Scrambling over the rail barrier, he shouted the Cub leader's name. In the act of shifting gears, Mr. Hatfield heard the boy and turned his head.

Seeing Dan, he quickly switched off the engine and ran to the fence.

"Where's Brad?" he asked anxiously. "When the storm broke so suddenly, I came out here as fast as I could. Had a flat tire on the way, which held me up. Is Brad all right?"

"He's with Mr. Silverton," Dan replied, and poured out his story of Dobbs' disappearance and the threatened flood disaster at the pheasant farm.

"No one there but Brad and Mr. Silverton?"

"That's right, and the water is coming up fast. Mr. Silverton's trying to get men from Webster City, but having no luck. Brad stayed with him to do what he could."

"Silverton _is_ in a spot," the Cub leader declared. "When I saw that log jam in the creek, I was afraid something like this would happen."

"Mr. Hatfield, do you think the Cubs could help?" Dan asked breathlessly.

"If only we could round them up!"

"We can and will, Dan. Jump into the car! We'll make a whirlwind trip into Webster City and see how many boys we can find!"

Driving as fast as the slippery pavement permitted, the two soon reached the city. Notified as to the emergency at the pheasant farm, Red, Chips, Mack and Fred immediately offered their services.

"Wear your slickers and either high boots or galoshes," the Cub leader advised the boys. "It's plenty moist out at Silverton's place and the creek still is rising."

Mr. Hatfield, in stopping at his own home to pick up his son and a pair of hip boots for himself, paused long enough to telephone Mr. Holloway and Midge. The information received from across the river was disconcerting.

"They can't come with us," he reported to the Cubs. "The river is rising fast, and Mr. Holloway is afraid the cabin may be flooded within a few hours. He and Midge are sticking close to look after things there."

"Gosh all fish hooks!" Red groaned as he piled into Mr. Hatfield's car with the other Cubs. "If the flood reaches the cabin, some of our Den equipment may be ruined. Especially our handicraft work."

"I left the pheasant feather war bonnet there somewhere," Chips added with concern.

"Mr. Holloway and Midge will look after your things," the Cub leader rea.s.sured the boys. "The water hasn't reached the cabin yet. As soon as we've done what we can to help Mr. Silverton, we'll drive over to Mr.

Holloway's place."

"After the way Silverton talked about the Cubs, he doesn't deserve too much help-" Chips began, but a glance from Mr. Hatfield silenced him.

Taking the longer route which entered the Silverton property from the higher level road, the Cub leader was able to drive his car within a hundred yards of the pheasant farm barn.

"Wow! The water's even higher than it was when I left!" Dan exclaimed in dismay.

Already, many of the pheasant pens were partially submerged by the creeping, chocolate-colored water.

Brad and Mr. Silverton, wet to their waists, had used grain to coax some of the more valuable pheasants into traps or carrying crates.

Sorely beset, they had been unable to free the penned pheasants or to carry any of the crates to higher ground.

"We sure are glad to see you!" Brad exclaimed as the Cubs tumbled from Mr. Hatfield's car. "Boy! Can we use a little help."

"Where shall we take the pheasants?" the Cub leader asked, quickly surveying the situation.

"I think the barn is the best place," Mr. Silverton decided. "Turn them loose there. The water shouldn't come that high."

"Get busy, boys," Mr. Hatfield instructed the Cubs.

Handling the crates carefully, the boys carried them one by one to the barn. There, after making certain the doors and windows all were closed, they set the startled birds free on the ground floor.

Meanwhile, along the pheasant runs, Mr. Silverton aided by Brad and Mr.

Hatfield, had been collecting the traps. As rapidly as the pheasants were caught, the Cubs carried them to the barn where they milled with the others.

"We've done all we can here," Mr. Silverton decided as deepening shadows made it difficult to locate straggling pheasants. "Some will take refuge in the trees and bushes."

"The water's still coming higher," Mr. Hatfield observed as he prepared to move his car. "If the gorge were cleared out, the level should drop fast."

"Let's see what can be done," Mr. Silverton proposed.