"Not a bit of it!" declared Nick. "You'd have a hard time knocking anything into that guy's thick skull. He was scared for a while, of course, at the close squeak he had in that Gyp Mooney robbery; but now he's getting into his stride again. I hear all sorts of things about his goings on. He's got it in for you too, Garry, good and plenty--don't make any mistake about that." Garry Grayson shrugged. "I'm not lying awake worrying about it, you bet," he rejoined carelessly. "Just the same, what Nick says is right," said Bill, poking at the fire with a long stick. "It was your father, Garry, who showed him up in that last rough stuff he tried to pull, and you yourself got the information from Jerry Cox that put him on the fritz. Sandy Podder isn't the fellow to forget anything like that. Take it from me, he'll get even if he can." "Well, let him try it," said Garry cheerfully. "We've outwitted that rascal several times already, and I guess we can again, if we have to. But say, fellows, here comes the rain." A splash fell on the embers of their fire, followed by another and yet another. The boys jumped to their feet, hastily gathering up the remnants of their feast, their rods, and can of bait. "Guess we'll have to run for it," conjectured Rooster. "From the look of the sky it'll soon be coming down in bucketfuls." "How about Peeble's cabin?" Nick suggested, referring to a tumbledown hut in the woods whose former owner had long since passed into the great beyond, leaving his earthly habitat to the mercy of wind and storm. Poor as it was, it would yet afford some shelter from the rain, and, as soon as they had looked to the remnants of their fire, the boys turned their steps toward it. They had barely reached it and slammed the rickety door to behind them when the storm broke in fury, dashing upon the leaky roof and beating at the dirty, cracked windows. Through the largest hole in the roof, the rain was beginning to drip in an ever-increasing stream. "Hey, there's a shower bath for you, Garry!" cried Rooster, and held his chum beneath the trickle. Garry dodged the unwelcome shower and in retaliation grabbed Rooster and held him beneath the stream, which coursed chillingly down the hapless Rooster's back. Rooster howled, and with a convulsive effort freed himself from Garry's grasp, at the same time butting his head against the ribs of his adversary. In the laughing scrimmage, both boys went down and rolled over and over on the rotting floor of the cabin, to the huge delight of their chums. "Soak him, Garry!" "Attaboy, Rooster!" "Go to, you fel--" The words were interrupted by a rending crash, and the next moment it seemed as though the universe had come down about their ears! CHAPTER II A Close Call Borne down to the floor, blinded, dazed, the boys lay half buried beneath the wreckage, the rain beating down upon them, soaking them through and through.