Something was. Something was coming, clicking and clattering--what? Oh, what? And then the sound was lost as the thunder burst itself apart, and burst the lightning with it. The world seemed to blow up. Almost immediately there was a hideous tearing noise; a mighty crash _inside_ the house! And something white flashed by the door.... All this took only an instant, but when there is terror, an instant seems pinned motionless on time. The boys were clinging to each other, unashamed. "The house has been struck," croaked Tom. "There'll be a fire." "But the white thing! The white thing...." There was another lull; in that last burst the storm seemed to have spent itself. Only the rain poured down and down; and now, quite close to them, the thin old voice called out again. "Ma-a-a-a," it called. Julian let go of Tom. "It's only Uncle Sam! That crazy goat! He must have broken out of his pen." "And come in here for shelter, I guess." "Why here, I wonder? Why not somewhere else?" But they would never know the reason. When they called him, Uncle Sam came clicking into the room, smelling strongly of wet goat, and the boys were so relieved, so glad to see him, that they gave him a chocolate bar to eat, paper and all. "That crash though, brother, what was that?" Tom wondered, and sneezed. The air seemed suddenly thick and itchy. "Do you think we were struck?" "No," said Julian, ashamed that his teeth were chattering still. "I think--I think that Uncle Sam finished off the s-stairs." And that is what had happened, as they saw when they went to investigate. They could see, by the diminishing, fitful lightning, that where the stairs had been there was a chasm, edged with a hanging fringe of balustrade. The stifling cloud of dust and wood particles was beginning to settle now, but the boys kept sneezing. "How'll we ever get down from here, I wonder?" said Tom. "There are back stairs. Bound to be," Julian assured him. "We'll have to wait till daylight to find them. We'd never do it in the dark; the floor back there is full of holes. I'm sorry, Jule, but I certainly think it was a _crazy_ idea not to bring a flashlight. I certainly think it was _dumb_." "So I agree with you now," Julian admitted handsomely. "It was idiotic and it was stupid and it was asinine. There. That satisfy you?" "Sure. I guess so. Anyway, we've still got something to eat. That's one good thing." They had another snack in the pitch dark, and Uncle Sam was glad to share it with them, but it caused Julian to remember about being thirsty. The thunder had rolled itself away; the lightning was gone; but luckily the rain was heavy. It poured in a stream from the broken gutter above the window. "Hold me by the belt, Tom, will you, and don't let me fall out? If I don't get a drink, I'll die."