d after, into the medley of boards and timbers some uprooted
trees came crashing.

"You wouldn't have stood much chance there, Anton," said Ross.

The crippled lad put his hand on the older boy's shoulder, with as close
an approach to a gesture of affection as boy nature would permit.

"I guess I'd have been a goner," he answered, "but for you."

CHAPTER II

THE HOME OF THE RAIN

The gray morning broke over the desolate scene, and Anton, hollow-eyed
and exhausted, looked at the muddy waters rushing savagely over the
place where his home had stood. By the tops of the trees, only, was he
able to trace the outline of the fields he had known all his boyhood.

"Do you suppose it'll ever dry up, Ross?" he asked.

"Of course it will, Anton," the older lad said, reassuringly, "you'll
see. In a week or two all this water'll run off and you'll forget that
the old place ever looked like this."

The crippled lad shook his head, as though in doubt.

"My books have gone," he said mournfully.

The tones were quiet, but a tragedy lay beneath the words, and no one
knew better than Ross how largely his chum's life lay in the world
revealed in his tiny library. The flood would pass away and the
fertility of summer would hide every trace of the disaster, but for
Anton's loss there was no such swift remedy. His books were his closest
friends, and now, at one stroke, he was bereft of all of them.

"Come," said Ross, to change the current of his chum's thoughts, "we'll
have to make a start. Where do you suppose your folks are?"

The younger lad turned to his friend with the quick responsiveness and
willing resignation often found among those who have suffered a great
deal or who are handicapped in Life's race.

"I haven't the least idea," he said, "they might have gone over to the
other shore."

"Yes," agreed Ross, thoughtfully, "that's likely. They'd certainly have
more chance of finding help and grub over there. And, talking of grub,
Anton, aren't you hungry?"

"Starving," admitted the younger lad.

"Then I tell you what, we'd better go and hunt up Levin."

"The chap who used to be with the Weather Bureau, you mean?" Anton
asked.

"Yes."

"Don't you think that I ought to try to find Father first?" queried the
younger lad, hesitatingly. "He might be worrying."

"It's because of your folks that I think we ought to go first to the
camp," explained Ross. "We couldn't possibly row right across the flood
to the