There was more than enough food in the supply which had been brought to provide a late supper and even breakfast for the captives, and there was a large jug of water. Throughout the hours of the night, Tom Swift and Ned Newton toiled desperately to cut a hole through the door. With only pocket knives to work with, it was tremendously difficult labor. It was long past midnight when Tom, whose turn it was at the task, uttered an exclamation of dismay. “What’s the matter?” asked Ned, who had thrown himself on the bed to rest. “Break your knife or cut yourself?” “Neither,” Tom replied. “But we’ll have to give this up.” “Why?” “There’s an iron plate outside this door. I’ve cut through the wood and come to the iron. It’s all off.” It was a bitter disappointment. “We’ll try something else in the morning,” decided Tom after a moment, closing his knife with a snap. “Meanwhile, I’m going to get some rest.” “Yes, we both need it,” admitted Ned, with a weary sigh. “But when they come in here in the morning and see what we’ve done in the way of spoiling their door, they may take us to another room.” “No use crossing a bridge until we come to it,” Tom responded. “I’m going to get some sleep.” They ate a little of the food, and then, bracing a chair under the knob of the door to prevent an entrance without causing noise enough to arouse them, the two threw themselves on the bed and slept the sleep of exhaustion. Faint daylight was struggling through the barred window next morning when Tom awoke and sat up. There was a peculiar noise for which at first he could not account. He looked toward the casement and then recognized the dash of rain against the glass and heard the roar of wind. It was this that caused the racket. “What’s the matter?” asked Ned, turning over. “Big storm,” Tom answered. He jumped out of bed and walked to the window. A moment later he uttered an exclamation. “What’s doing?” asked Ned, stretching lazily. “Those three fellows are down on the shore doing something to their motorboat,” reported Tom. “Looks as if it had been damaged in the storm, which is a fierce one, let me tell you. They seem to be making repairs.” “Maybe they’re going away and leave us alone,” suggested Ned. “They may be going away,” assented Tom. “But they won’t leave us, I’m thinking. They’ll take us with them. But something evidently has happened.” In his eagerness to see what was going on at the shore of the lake within view of the barred window, Ned jumped out of bed. In doing so he overbalanced himself and in order not to fall he had to do a hop, skip and a jump across the room. He brought up hard against the opposite wall, fairly jarring the place. As he stopped his somewhat mad and erratic career he uttered a cry. “Hurt yourself?” asked Tom anxiously. “No! But look! Man dear, look!”