ng in bags, the washing action of the water could not carry away the
sand, and the gradually crumbling bank again was made firm. After a
while, however, Ross again felt the dog tugging at his trouser leg and
he realized that the mission on which he had started had been forgotten
in the excitement of mending the crack in the levee.

"That's right, I was forgetting," said Ross aloud, and he appealed to
his friend the Forecaster.

"Mr. Levin," he said, "can you spare me for a bit? I left Father's camp
because we thought there was something wrong. Rex kept on tugging at my
leg, as though he wanted to lead me somewhere. He's worrying again, now.
Do you mind if I go ahead and see?"

"Not a bit," was the hearty answer, "a dog doesn't generally go on like
that without some reason of his own. I'll send one of the roustabouts
with you, if you like?"

"No, thanks, sir," the lad answered, "if I really need help I'll come
back and ask for it. Right now, I just want to find out what it is
that's bothering Rex."

"Off with you, then," said the other, kindly, "but go easy. Oh, and
Ross!" he added, "if you're going down stream, just keep your eye on the
levee, won't you? If you see any signs of trouble, get back on the
double-quick. Don't try any of that story-book business about sitting
down with your back to a hole in the bank. That sort of thing may be all
very well in Holland but it wouldn't work with the Mississippi."

Ross grinned, remembering the story.

"All right, Mr. Levin," he answered, "if I see anything that looks like
trouble, I'll come right back and report."

For a short distance down the river, Rex led the boy along the levee,
then he branched away from the river bank towards a large stretch of
low-lying land. This was familiar territory to Ross, for one of his best
chums, a little crippled lad, lived in a house in the hollow.

"I hope Anton got out all right!" suddenly exclaimed Ross, half aloud,
as the thought swept over him of the plight in which his chum might
have been.

This fear became more poignant when, as Rex reached the path that led up
to Anton's house, he turned up it, half trotting and half splashing his
way through. Ross followed him closely, breaking into a run himself, as
the dog galloped ahead.

There was a slight rise of the ground, near the wood below which lay the
house, and from this shallow ridge the rain ran off in muddy gullies
that were miniature torrents. This ridge reached, Ross