The rain, after those few drops, had decided to hold off awhile, it appeared. There was no stirring now. It was as if the world held its breath, expectant, waiting. Another terrific crash of thunder pealed across the heavens, nearer now, louder, more appalling. Tim grasped Harmon’s arm tightly. ‘Gosh!’ he muttered. ‘I――I ain’ goin’ to stay here! I’m――’ At that moment Pud came into sight again. He wasn’t running now. In fact, he wasn’t even walking briskly. His hands were in his pockets and his whole appearance indicated dejection. ‘Gone away,’ he called dismally when he was within hearing distance. ‘She left this morning for Mumford and won’t be back till to-morrow afternoon. She’s gone to a funeral. And the girl’s gone with her. I guess we’re out of luck!’ ‘Sure is,’ assented Harmon. ‘Well, I guess we are!’ exclaimed Tim violently. ‘Why don’t your old aunt stay at home sometimes? Gosh, look at the fix we’re in! It’s going to rain like anything in a minute and we’re three or four miles from the boat and you don’t even know where the car line is and――’ ‘I do, too! It’s just four or five blocks over there.’ ‘Well, then why don’t you say so? Want to stay here and get struck by lightning? Or drowned? Come on, can’t you, for goodness’ sake! If I had an aunt――’ That is as far as Tim’s eloquence carried him, for at that instant the sky opened and the deluge descended. With one accord they raced up the steps, assisted in their flight by a roar of thunder and a blinding flash of lightning, and cowered, half-stunned, under the narrow hood above the doorway. ‘_Gee!_’ muttered Pud. Tim was beyond words. Harmon, his eyes showing very round, giggled. ‘Ol’ Mister Thun’er sure speak right out loud that time! Whoo――ee!’ In front of them was a hissing, drumming wall of water that shut off the world as completely as though a silver-gray curtain had been suddenly lowered. The shelf-like projection above provided but scant shelter from the downpour and they were all getting wet very fast. The thunder slam-banged again and the gray world blazed with light. As the echo of the thunder died away, there came a sharp, triumphant cry from Pud, and the next instant he was down on his knees in the torrent, poking about at the foot of the steps. Then he was back again, gasping, laughing, shaking the water from his face, with a big iron key in one hand! ‘Just remembered!’ he shouted above the seethe and hiss of the rain. ‘She always hides it there! Funny I didn’t think of it sooner!’ As he spoke, he fitted the key in the lock, there was a creaking sound, and the door fell open before them. Pud stamped water from his clothes, tossed his reeking hat to a table, and closed the big door again. ‘There!’ he cried triumphantly. ‘How’s this?’ Then, partly from reaction, he fell to laughing loudly, awakening strange echoes in the big, dim hallway. ‘Gee, wouldn’t Aunt Sabrina be mad if she knew? I can see her face right now!’