Mr. Silverton hesitated, apparently on the verge of refusing the request.

"Please let me help," Dobbs urged. "It's the least I can do to make amends."

"Very well," the sportsman agreed. "We need your help. The dynamite is in my car. Be careful it doesn't get wet, because it's all I have."

"I'll set off the blast," Dobbs said, starting away. "Just be sure all the boys are out of range when she goes off!"

"We'll round the Cubs up now," Mr. Hatfield said. "What about these pheasants here in the barn?"

"Dan and I can move them up into the loft," Brad offered eagerly.

"If we can dynamite the dam, it may not be necessary," Mr. Silverton said. "First, let's see what can be done at the creek. If we fail there, we'll have to come back and move everything out."

Dobbs obtained the dynamite from Mr. Silverton's car, and the party set off for the creek. Failing to see Fred, Mack, Chips and Red by the dam, Mr. Hatfield gave the familiar Pack whistle.

From higher land far up the logging road came an immediate response.

"Round up the Cubs, Brad," Mr. Hatfield instructed the Den Chief. "Then keep them all together until after Dobbs sets off the dynamite."

"Sure," Brad agreed. "Coming, Dan?"

Leaving the log jam where an avalanche of water was pouring over the pile of debris, the two boys quickly found the other four Cubs.

"We thought you never would get back," Red said. He was wet to the waist and covered with mud, having fallen down on the slippery road. "The creek came up so fast, we moved out."

Brad and Dan recounted their own experiences at the barn, and ended by telling Dobbs' confession.

"And all the while that guy was trying to put the blame on us!" Chips exclaimed indignantly. "What a nerve! He drove us away from here because he was afraid we'd learn the truth."

"And we did, thanks to Mr. Hatfield's suspicions about the logging road,"

declared Brad. "But if Dan hadn't noticed the shipping tag on that crate, I doubt Dobbs ever would have confessed."

"What happened to Freeze and Bauer?" Fred questioned. "They got away?"

"Temporarily," Brad answered. "Mr. Silverton knows their address though.

So unless they wise up and slip out of town, he'll swear out a warrant for their arrest."

Keeping together, the Cubs returned to the creek, the banks of which had dissolved into a dark, murky, ever-spreading lake.

On the log jam, endeavoring to place the charge of dynamite, were Dobbs, Sam Hatfield and Mr. Silverton. Seeing the Cubs, Mr. Hatfield shouted to Brad to come and hold the lighted lantern. The others, he warned to keep far away.

Carefully Dobbs placed the dynamite charge, having trouble in keeping it dry until the fuse could be lighted.

"Now everyone get out of here quick!" he ordered. "I'm sticking until the last minute."

As the long fuse began to burn, Mr. Silverton, Brad, and Sam Hatfield, quickly waded back to the waiting Cubs. Together, all retreated a safe distance.

"Come on, Dobbs!" Mr. Silverton shouted to the workman. "Better get out.

That fuse will burn fast!"

Thus urged, Dobbs leaped off the logs and started at a run through the water. Gasping for breath, he reached the Cubs.

With increasing tenseness, everyone waited for the explosion. Minutes pa.s.sed and it did not come.

"The fuse has damped out," Dobbs muttered. "I'll go back and see what's happened."

"No, wait!" Mr. Silverton commanded, placing a restraining hand on the man's arm.

Even as he spoke, there came a terrific blast which shook the ground where the Cubs stood. Logs were hurled helter-skelter as the pile of debris broke up.

"She's moving out!" Dobbs cried jubilantly.

Wading to the stream's edge, the Cubs watched the splintered logs float off downstream.

A few of the larger pieces at either side of the jam had not been dislodged by the blast, but the gap was large enough for the main flow of the torrent to pour through.

"The water level will lower rapidly now," Mr. Silverton said in satisfaction.

Soon the Cubs observed for themselves that damp rings were appearing on the bases of the trunks of nearby trees, indicating that the flood was receding.

"The danger here is past," declared Mr. Hatfield. "But on the river, I fear it's a different story."

"Do you suppose the Holloway place is under water?" Brad asked anxiously.

"Not the house," the Cub leader replied. "But the cabin may be flooded.

If not by this time, it may a little later. The river rises slowly, but for days now it has been almost at bank level."

"Shouldn't we go there and see if Mr. Holloway needs help?" Dan suggested. "A lot of Cub stuff is stored in the cabin."

"Including that Indian headgear Red and I made!" Chips contributed. "I'd sure hate to lose it just before the Pack handicraft show."

"Speaking of that feather headgear, I owe the Cubs an apology," Mr.

Silverton said. "Several of them, in fact. There's no time to speak of certain matters now, but later on, you'll hear from me. In the meantime, thanks for everything you've done tonight!"

The Cubs, eager to reach Mr. Holloway's place, said good-bye and left the sportsman and Dobbs at the creek. Returning to Mr. Hatfield's parked car, they rode with the Cub leader into Webster City, and on toward the outskirts.

As the highway curved near the river, the Cubs noted with increasing anxiety that large areas of low-lying sh.o.r.e had been nibbled away.

Finally, at the Holloway residence, they piled out of the car to see lighted lanterns moving in the vicinity of the log cabin.

Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs trooped down the slope to find Midge, his father, and Mrs. Holloway, moving bedding, furniture and knickknacks from the cabin.

"Glad you're here!" Midge's father greeted the newcomers. "From the look of your clothes, you've already had a bout with this flood."

"A winning one, we're glad to report!" the Cub leader laughed. "Need help here?"

"We certainly do, although for the moment the situation is fairly well in hand. But I'm worried about the folks on Rabb Island."