They were all provided with cups, for the Academy teachers and the Denton mothers were rather insistent on that point. "But, oh, golly!" burst forth Frank, "if they'd only made us always carry an emergency ration." "We didn't expect to be cast away on a desert island in this fashion," said Dave. But Wyn had another idea. "There are melons on the back porch. I saw them there this morning. Go get us a lot, Tubby. Send 'em up by the bucket-full. And there are tomatoes in the garden, and some summer apples on that tree by the fence corner. We'll make it all right with Mrs. Prosser. Why, say! we sha'n't starve." "I'll get you some eggs if you want 'em," suggested the willing youth. "I hear the hens cackling." But all objected to raw eggs and thought the melons and fresh tomatoes would suffice. "You go back to camp and report," ordered Dave, through the window. "The prof, and Mrs. Havel will be having conniption fits if these girls don't show up pretty soon. Tell 'em we're all right--but goodness knows we want the wind to stop blowing." It did not seem, however, as though the wind had any such intention. After Tubby Blaisdell departed it blew even stronger. It was hard to keep the whole party in good temper. The imprisonment was getting on their nerves. Besides, the sky was growing darker, although it was not yet mid-afternoon; and not long after the fat youth was out of sight, heavy drops of rain began to fall. Rather, the wind whipped the raindrops in at the tower window. Patter, patter, patter, they fell, faster and faster, and in the distance thunder rumbled. The picnicking farmers should be home ahead of this storm; yet, if they came, they could not stop the sails of the windmill. The shaft groaned and smoked, but Dave kept the oil cups filled. Nearer and nearer came the thunder, and the lightning began to flash. Some of the girls were frightened. Nor was this a pleasant place in which to be imprisoned during an electrical storm. The tall, revolving arms seemed just the things to attract the lightning. They all were glad--boys as well as girls--to retire to the ground floor of the mill while the elements shrieked overhead and the rain pounded upon the roof and the sails. It was really a most unpleasant situation. CHAPTER XXIII WYN HITS SOMETHING In the midst of the storm a voice hailed them from outside. Dave went to the doorway and saw--through the falling rain--Farmer Prosser, standing by his horses' heads. He had just brought his family home from the picnic and they had scurried into the house. "What are you doing in there?" demanded the farmer. "Can't you stop the sails?" Dave explained, making it as light for Ferd as possible. "Well! I've been expecting something like this ever since the mill was put up. We can't do anything about it now. But I believe the wind will shift soon. And if it does, perhaps I can stop the sails from outside here."