“Why, it couldn't--” he began. But at this instant a drop fell upon his head, too, and, looking up, they beheld a great oozing splotch upon the ceiling. Drops were gathering upon it and falling; the tinted plaster was cracking, and a little stream began to patter down and splash upon the floor. Then there came a resounding thump upstairs, just above them, and fragments of wet plaster fell. “The roof must be leaking,” said Marjorie, beginning to be alarmed. “Couldn't be the roof,” said Penrod. “Besides there ain't any rain outdoors.” As he spoke, a second slender stream of water began to patter upon the floor of the hall outside the door. “Good gracious!” Marjorie cried, while the ceiling above them shook as with earthquake--or as with boys in numbers jumping, and a great uproar burst forth overhead. “I believe the house IS falling down, Penrod!” she quavered. “Well, they'll blame ME for it!” he said. “Anyways, we better get out o' here. I guess sumpthing must be the matter.” His guess was accurate, so far as it went. The dance-music had swung into “Home Sweet Home” some time before, the children were preparing to leave, and Master Chitten had been the first boy to ascend to the gentlemen's dressing-room for his cap, overcoat and shoes, his motive being to avoid by departure any difficulty in case his earlier activities should cause him to be suspected by the other boys. But in the doorway he halted, aghast. The lights had not been turned on; but even the dim windows showed that the polished floor gave back reflections no floor-polish had ever equalled. It was a gently steaming lake, from an eighth to a quarter of an inch deep. And Carlie realized that he had forgotten to turn off the faucets in the bathroom. For a moment, his savoir faire deserted him, and he was filled with ordinary, human-boy panic. Then, at a sound of voices behind him, he lost his head and rushed into the bathroom. It was dark, but certain sensations and the splashing of his pumps warned him that the water was deeper in there. The next instant the lights were switched on in both bathroom and dressing-room, and Carlie beheld Sam Williams in the doorway of the former. “Oh, look, Maurice!” Sam shouted, in frantic excitement. “Somebody's let the tub run over, and it's about ten feet deep! Carlie Chitten's sloshin' around in here. Let's hold the door on him and keep him in!” Carlie rushed to prevent the execution of this project; but he slipped and went swishing full length along the floor, creating a little surf before him as he slid, to the demoniac happiness of Sam and Maurice. They closed the door, however, and, as other boys rushed, shouting and splashing, into the flooded dressing-room, Carlie began to hammer upon the panels. Then the owners of shoes, striving to rescue them from the increasing waters, made discoveries.