ld him, "but their time came at last, and without warning. We can't
afford to accept the risk. There is only one safe way, and that is to
avoid dangerous places."

The thunder grew louder with every peal. There were vivid flashes of
lightning, too, each of which caused Horace to start and close his
eyes, though he bravely suppressed the groan that seemed ready to burst
from his lips.

Tom, as well as Mr. Witherspoon, Josh and Rob Shaefer, was constantly
on the lookout for some sign of shelter. The ground seemed to favor the
possibility of finding something in the line of overlapping lines of
rock, which, forming a mushroom ledge, would screen them from the
violence of the expected downpour.

After all, the honor of making the discovery went to Carl.

"Look over yonder between those bushes, sir; doesn't that seem to be
about the kind of place you're after?" he called out, clutching the
scout master by the arm.

So impressed was Mr. Witherspoon by what he saw that he immediately
directed all of his charges to make for the spot pell-mell. The first
big drops were coming down as they arrived, to find that, sure enough,
the ledges of stone cropped out as much as six or seven feet.

"Crawl under wherever you can find a good place, and lie quiet!"
ordered the scout master; and in several detachments they proceeded to
get out of the rain, now commencing to fall heavily.

The wind rushed through the branches with a furious shriek; the thunder
crashed; they heard several trees fall under the strain; and then
without warning came a blinding flash, with a terrific ear-splitting
roar of thunder accompanying it.

Horace, who with a number of others was in the cavity Tom had chosen,
shrank close to the leader of the Black Bear Patrol.

"Oh, Tom!" he cried, when his voice could be heard, "didn't that sound
right from where that magnificent big oak tree stood that I wanted to
get under?"

"Just what it did!" Josh Kingsley told him, vehemently, while Tom said:

"We'll investigate after the storm is over, Horace; but right now I'm
of the opinion your fine oak is lying shattered into fragments by the
bolt that fell!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE LANDSLIDE

"Whether that's so or not," said the trembling Horace, "I feel that
I've learned a lesson. I own up that I'm terribly afraid of lightning;
but after this I'm going to face it, even if I have to lie out in the
storm, rather than take chances."

It became difficult to car