"The sneak!" murmured the youngest Rover.

"That's what I say, Rover."

"Guess he did it to get square for losing that swimming race," put in another of the hazers.

"More than likely. We ought to square up with him for it."

"That's the talk."

"Vat's der madder mit tossing him a blanket up?" asked Hans earnestly.

"Think that's a good way to get square, eh, Hans?" laughed Sam.

"Dot's der vorst bunishments vot I know of," said the German boy with deep conviction. "Makes you feel like you vos going to preak abard alretty kvick!"

All of the boys knew that it would not do to try any more hazing for the next few nights. Even if the guards gave no alarm, Captain Putnam or one of the teachers might be on the watch to catch them.

On the following day it rained and the majority of the cadets were glad enough to remain under shelter. A few went bathing or fishing and the latter brought in quite a respectable mess of fish. Even in fishing the boys were rivals and a new tin cup was voted to the cadet bringing in the string that weighed the most.

The rain began about ten o'clock and by noon the water was coming down in torrents.

"This is beautiful," remarked Tom, as he looked at the puddle in the company's street.

"We ought to have dug another ditch to let that water run off,"

remarked d.i.c.k.

"Well, n.o.body wants to go out now and dig."

"That is true."

Instead of abating the rain became more violent as the afternoon advanced.

"This looks as if we were going to have some wind." remarked Major Larry with a doubtful shake of his head.

"I hope it doesn't blow too heavily," said Captain Putnam.

"Don't you think I had better caution the fellows to pin down their tents extra hard?"

"It would do no harm, Major Colby."

"Then I'll do it," said Larry, and issued the order without delay. Some of the cadets grumbled at being driven out into the wet, but the majority knew they were doing the work for their own good and went at it without a murmur.

At about sundown the wind fell and after supper it was as calm as it had been before the storm started.

"Told you there wasn't any use of getting wet pounding down stakes,"

growled Lew Flapp. He had done his work in a slip-shod fashion, staying out but a minute or two for that purpose.

It still rained, so building camp-fires was out of the question. This being so, the cadets turned in early, glad to seek the shelter of their cots and their warm blankets.

An hour went by, when of a sudden the rain increased once more. Then came a rush of wind that shook all of the tents violently.

"We are not out of it yet, it would seem," said d.i.c.k, as he sat up on his cot to listen to the flapping of the canvas in the company street.

He had hardly spoken when another gust of wind tore down on the camp.

There was a ripping of cloth and a crashing of poles, and then a cry for help sounded from several places at once.

CHAPTER XIX

A STORM IN CAMP

"Say, fellows, are we all going up in a balloon!" cried Sam Rover, as he rolled off his cot in a great hurry.

One whole side of the tent was loose and the structure was in danger of tumbling down on the inmates' heads.

"Help!" came from the next tent. "I'm being smothered!"

"That's Lew Flapp!" said a cadet. "What's up now, Flapp?" he called out.

No answer came back, and now canvases could be heard ripping in all directions.

"Fasten down the pegs!" came the order. "Fasten them down, quick!"

The cadets were already at work, and Sam and his tent-mates set at their task with a will, realizing that every moment was precious. While one student held the peg upright the other would pound it down into the wet ground with a hammer or the back of a spade.

"The confounded pegs won't hold," cried out one cadet. "There she goes!" and the next instant the tent went flying skyward, to land on another tent some distance away.

It was still raining "cats, dogs, and hammer handles" as Tom Rover expressed it. All was dark, the only light being that given forth by the lantern which had not been blown out. Occasionally came a flash of lightning, followed by the distant rolling of thunder.

"This is one of the real comforts of camp life," said Songbird Powell sarcastically. "So much nicer than being under the roof of the Hall, you know!"

"Never mind, Songbird, you need a washing off at least once a year,"

replied a fellow sufferer.

A minute later came another yell from Lew Flapp. He and his tent-mates had tried in vain to hold down their canvas. Now it went up with a rush. One of the peg ropes caught around Flapp's leg and he was dragged over the wet ground, with his head splashing into every pool of water that he pa.s.sed.

"Help me! I'll be killed!" roared the tall youth.

The tent was blowing along the company street and half a dozen cadets ran to the rescue, Tom with them. Some leaped on the canvas, while others held Flapp. Then the rope was cut with a knife.

"Wha--what a fearful wind!" groaned the tall boy, when he could speak.

"This is the worst storm I ever saw!"

"Oh, but I'm sorry I ever came to camp," groaned William Philander Tubbs. "I'm so wet the water is actually running out of my shoetops!"