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The Boy with the U. S. Weather Men Part 2

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"Scared, Anton?" said Ross. "I'm not surprised. You've a good right to be."

"I wasn't so scared," the younger lad replied, with the characteristic desire of a boy not to be thought cowardly, "I just got to wondering, that was all."

"Wondering if any one was going to come for you?"

"Yes."

"How did you get left behind, anyhow?" queried Ross.

"Oh, it was my own fault, all right," the crippled lad replied. "It was all because of the dog. You know, Ross, La.s.sie had pups, last Monday."

"No, I didn't know about it," responded the older boy. "Why didn't you tell a fellow?"

"I haven't seen you since," Anton explained. "Well, when the levee broke and the water commenced to come into the house, Dad and Uncle Jack went and got the two boats we always keep on the river. Dad picked me up and carried me down on to the porch. I heard him call to Uncle Jack:

"'You go ahead and get Clara; I've got Anton safe with me.'"

"Then you were with him, weren't you?" queried Ross.

"Sure I was. Just as I was getting into the boat, though, I thought of La.s.sie and her puppies and I went back to get them. I called to Dad and said:

"'I'm just going to fetch La.s.sie, Dad, and I'll go in Uncle Jack's boat.'

"So, Dad, he called to Uncle, saying that I was to go with him. His boat was pretty well crowded up, too. Back I went to get La.s.sie. As soon as I'd picked up the pups, La.s.sie was willing enough to come along. The water was running over the floor and made it slippery. My crutch slithered on the wet wood and I tumbled down. It was pretty dark, and I had a job finding the four puppies again. When I did gather 'em up and started for the porch again, Uncle Jack was gone."

"Without you?"

"He thought I was with Dad, and I suppose Dad was sure I was with Uncle Jack."

"They ought to have found out and come back after you as soon as they got together."

"I thought of that," the crippled lad answered, "and that's what I expected would happen. I suppose, though, they didn't land at the same place, and so each bunch thinks I'm with the other and isn't doing any worrying."

"It's a mighty awkward mix-up," declared Ross. "There's no saying what might have happened to you if Rex hadn't been on the job."

"Was it Rex who brought you here?"

"It sure was," Ross replied, and he described how the terrier had pulled him by the leg and insisted on his coming over to the house in the hollow.

"Where's Rex now," queried Anton, "down in our old boat?"

"Yes, he's down there, keeping watch, good old scout," answered Ross.

"He ought to be satisfied now, he certainly made fuss enough to bring me here. But, look here, Anton, how are we going to get you out? You don't swim."

"No," answered his chum mournfully, "I can't swim."

"If there was room enough down that stair," said Ross, thoughtfully, "I could take you on my back, but we'd never get through that door, and the window would be even worse."

"I'd been thinking of that," Anton answered. "I wondered how Dad would get me when he found out that I wasn't with Uncle Jack and came for me.

So I made a long rope out of strips of my sheets."

"What's the good of that?"

"Well," said the younger boy, "I was wondering if I couldn't get out of the window. My arms are awful strong, you know, Ross."

"Yes," the other agreed, "you've plenty of muscle there."

"I thought if I could drop that line out of the window, Dad could grab it and hold the boat there. Then I could chuck down La.s.sie and the pups in a basket--I've got the basket--and slide down the rope of sheets into the boat."

Ross thought for a minute.

"I don't see why we couldn't do that now," he said. "Suppose we tied a piece of wood to the end of this rope of sheets, so that it would float, the current would curl it around the corner of the house so that I could get hold of it from the boat. If your end of the line was made fast up here, I could hand over hand the boat right under your window, the way you say. Why, I could get you out without any trouble at all! Let's see how it goes."

Suiting the action to the word, Ross tied one end of the line of sheets around the hinge of the door, pa.s.sed it through the window, and, to the other end, tied a spare crutch. Then he leaned out of the window and watched it. The current s.n.a.t.c.hed the crutch down and, as Ross expected, swung it around the corner of the house.

"Fine," said the lad. "We can work that all right. I'll have you out of here in two shakes, Anton. Where are the pups?"

Anton pointed to the bed, on which a basket was lying.

"Aren't they dandies?" he said.

Ross took the candle over and picked up one of the pups. La.s.sie growled in a low voice.

"All right, La.s.sie," said Ross, "you ought to know me."

He bent down and patted her.

The dog smelt his hand and whacked her tail on the floor in token of recognition, but growled again, nevertheless.

"I won't hurt your pup," declared Ross, putting the blind little creature back in the basket.

"Nicely marked, Anton," he said, "they look great. But we've got to get busy."

He went to the head of the staircase and stared down.

"It doesn't look a bit nice," he declared, "I sort of hate to go through there again."

"Why do you?" queried Anton. "You could go down the line and reach the boat that way."

"That's an idea," declared Ross thoughtfully, then he shook his head.

"No," he said, "my weight would swing the crutch out clear away from the house. I'd better go down the way I came up. I can always get back, anyway."

He ran down the staircase until the water reached to his chest and then struck out. The water had risen slightly, but he got through the door without any trouble. Pa.s.sing through the window he was not so lucky, for a projecting splinter of gla.s.s sc.r.a.ped him as he dived through, making a long but shallow cut in the upper part of his arm.

Rex welcomed him back with short joyful barks.

"I'm not a bit sure," said Ross as he patted the dog, "whether it was Anton or the pups that you wanted me to rescue, eh? Which was it?"

For answer Rex only wagged his tail and jumped up on his young master.

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