Nerve-frazzled and tired out, Anton pegged away behind. The heavy downpour of rain, which had not ceased for a day and a night, and which had followed upon the heavy rains of the week before, had made the ground as soft as a bog. The crippled lad's crutch sank in so deeply at every step that it was only with great pain that he could keep up at all. Still, he struggled along bravely. Ross, turning to see how his chum was faring, caught the boy's tense and haggard look, and understood. "Look here, Anton," he said, at once, "we'll never get anywhere this way. You get into the boat and I'll tow you." "But you can't, you're just about all in," protested the younger boy. "You can't tow the boat with me in it, all the way." "Got to!" declared Ross abruptly. "It's a sure thing that you're not able to walk there with the ground in this sodden condition. Anyway, I won't have to carry the puppies." Thankful but still protesting, Anton got into the boat and the journey began anew. It was a weary way. Ross staggered forward, half-blind with sleep, wading knee-deep, sometimes waist-deep, in the water. The rain had stopped, but the sky was heavy and the clouds hung low. Twice Anton had to jerk on the tow-rope to jolt Ross awake, for, unnoticing, he was heading for deep water. Even near the shore the torrent was full of floating debris. The bodies of horses and cattle drifting down the stream told of many impoverished farms and the flotsam was eloquent of wrecked and demolished houses and indicative of suffering. When, after an hour's toil, rescuer and rescued reached the drier land that sloped up to the levee, it was hard to tell which was the more exhausted. To the last, however, Ross refused to let his chum bear the burden of the puppies, and he lurched up the road to the place where he had left the gang at work on the cave-in, not so many hours before. It seemed weeks ago. The Weather Man was still at work. He had been up all night, also, but he greeted the lad cheerily as he came in sight. "Hello, Boss!" he called, then, as the boy's exhausted state became more evident, "what have you been doing? Has anything happened?" "Anton was marooned," answered Ross in the dull, listless voice of extreme fatigue. "Marooned? You mean he was caught by the flood?" As though in answer, Anton, toiling heavily and wearily on his crutch, came in sight. "Yes," said Ross, in the same tone, "he was left behind." "How was that?" the Weather Man asked sharply. "It wasn't anybody's fault, Mr. Levin," replied Anton, who had heard the last two sentences as he came up, "Father thought I'd gone with Uncle Jack, and Uncle Jack thought I'd gone with Father." "You're not hurt?" "No, sir," the crippled lad answered, "not a bit. Ross is, though. He cut his arm diving through the window." The Forecaster turned swiftly to the older boy and began examining the injury. "Is the house still standing?" he asked.