e past the brook," replied Henry Burns. "It's rainy-day luck.
We've got to go up to that farmhouse on the hill and find out where we
are."

"I haven't seen a farmhouse for more than half an hour," exclaimed
Harvey.

"No, but there are cattle in that pasture, and a track going up through
the grove," said Henry Burns. "We'll follow that. It won't be any
blinder than this stream."

They brought the canoe in upon the muddy bank, slumped into the ooze,
pulled the canoe half out of water and started off.

"Nice trip!" said Henry Burns. "And the worst of it is, I have a
suspicion I know just where that brook is. I can see it now. There was a
tiny bit of a cove, a lot of rushes growing there, and two houses back
about a quarter of a mile. But it was dry--no water running--and it was
so near the station I didn't suppose that could be the place."

"It isn't so dry by this time," remarked Harvey.

"No, and neither are we," said Henry Burns. "Look out!"

He dragged one leg out from a mud-hole into which he had sunk to the
knee. The path they were following led through clumps of fern and
brake, almost waist high. These, dripping with rain, drenched them as
they pushed their way through. Some fifteen minutes of hard travelling
brought them to a little rise of land, from the top of which they could
see, down in a valley beyond, a farmhouse.

"More wet day luck," muttered Harvey. "We're in for it, though. It's a
good half mile more."

They tramped on, in silence. The particular cloud that had first wet
them had blended much with others by this time, and it was still
raining. But they came up to the house soon, and, the big barn door
standing open invitingly, they entered there. A man and two boys, busily
engaged mending a harness, looked up in surprise.

"Sort er wet," the man commented. "Come from the city, eh? Well, I guess
it's only a shower. What's that? The brook that runs into Dark Stream!
Huh! You're two miles past it."

Henry Burns and Harvey looked at each other helplessly. Then Harvey
grinned.

"It's so tough, it's almost a joke, Henry," he said.

"Great--if it had only happened to somebody else, say your friend Harry
Brackett," replied Henry Burns. "Guess we won't tell much about this
part of the trip to Tom and Bob, though. What do you want to do, go back
to the station, or keep on?"

"Back!" exclaimed Harvey. "Say, I'm so mad, I'd keep on now if every
drop of rain was as big as a base-ball. I'll never go