be satisfied with the way we’ve managed to cheat the rain and kept our jackets fairly dry. I believe in letting well enough alone.”

Billy began to notice the various indications, since his attention had been called to them by his more observing companion; and he quickly found reason to agree with Hugh that they would soon see the last of the rain.

“Jiminy! if it came down as heavy as this near home,” he said humorously, for Billy could joke, no matter what the conditions were, “we’ll need a boat to paddle along the pike. And say, think of little Pioneer Lake, will you? Won’t it be over the dam and rushing down like a mill race, though?”

The boys could now exchange remarks, because the thunder had rolled further away, although occasionally a terrific crash near at hand startled Billy, who liked to thrust his head out from under his shelter, just as a tortoise might from his shell, only to jerk it back again when a dazzling flash was instantly succeeded by a stunning bang.

“Whew! that was the worst knock of all we’ve had!” he ejaculated the next moment, shivering so that Hugh could feel his form tremble.

“You have to watch out in a bad storm for those same after-claps,” the other informed him. “They nearly always come, and do a heap of damage. There’s something in the air that draws the lightning back again to repeat. And chances are that bolt shattered a tree into splinters, because I’m sure I heard the sound of falling limbs and branches.”

“Oh! Hugh, don’t you think it came right from the quarter where that big hollow oak stood which Arthur wanted all of us to use as a shelter from the storm?” Billy asked, considerable awe in his voice.

“I was thinking that myself,” replied the other soberly; “and when we go on, we’ll find out. If it should happen that way, the sight of it would be the greatest object lesson ever to Arthur; yes, to all of us.”

“I should say yes,” muttered Billy, as in imagination he pictured that lofty oak lying in ruins; “and I guess you did us all a great favor, Hugh, when you refused to let any scout find shelter under its branches, even if they did look mighty tempting.”

That one grand crash seemed to mark the winding up of the furious storm; for the rain stopped altogether, and gradually the surrounding woods became lighter. Still, no scout ventured to crawl forth, such was the spirit of obedience which had been fostered in the Wolf patrol in times past, when all manner of strange adventures had been the portion of the eight boys constituting it. Until the leader gave the signal, they must remain where they were; although one and all of them secretly confessed to being heartily tired of crouching in that strained attitude.

When Arthur and Bud heard the peculiar howl of the wolf—“How-oo-ooo”—softly repeated three times, they knew that this was the signal for release; and accordingly both boys came crawling out from their place of concealment, stretching their cramped limbs with more or less animation and gratitude.

“Let me tell you it’s few scouts who would have noticed these rocky shelves in the formation of the hill,” Billy told the others impressively, “and then have remembered them just when a hiding-place from the storm was needed! When we report this adventure to the committee in charge of that banner, I hope they’ll agree that our patrol deserves a good big ten-point mark placed on record, for doing the right thing at the right time.”

“And let me tell you, the other patrol leaders’ll be warm under the collar when they hear about it, especially Alec Sands,” Bud went on to say reflectively. “Time was when he just hated Hugh here like everything. Then for a while Alec turned right around, so that he seemed to be as good a friend as Hugh had in the whole troop; but I’ve taken notice lately that Alec’s showing signs of his old trouble. You know he’s a spoiled darling at home and thinks everything ought to come his way. He’s straining every nerve to count points, and says he’s got that fine banner as good as won. Huh! like fun he has! Wait till the Wolf patrol is heard from!”

“That’s the way to talk, Bud,” commented Billy; “it gives us all a nice warm feeling. I only wish we could manage to get a photograph of these shelter caves that came in so handy. Nothing like being able to show the proof, when you’re going to make a report to the committee.”

“Well, you’ll have to come back here on a clear day, then,” said Hugh; “because there isn’t half enough light now to take them, and we haven’t any flashlight apparatus along. If all of you are ready, let’s be making tracks toward home.”

Billy noticed that the leader took great pains to walk along the same trail they had used in advancing, and he could give a pretty fair guess why this should be so.

That was characteristic of Billy; he often acted as though sleepy; but, once he was aroused, he could make as good use of his eyes and ears as the next fellow. Just then he fancied that Hugh expected to spring a considerable surprise on his chums before they had gone many rods.

“Looks as if we would be pretty wet, after all, the way the drops come down from the trees,” Arthur remarked, as he started to draw the collar of his coat up about his neck. “But then, none of us are made of salt, are we, boys?”

“Well, I should say not,” declared Bud, “after all we’ve been through since the Wolf patrol was first started, and Lieutenant Denmead consented to serve as our Scout Master. And he’s worked wonders for the lot of us, everybody says. Some of the boys in the troop have improved five hundred per cent. since they joined the scouts. They’ve learned that a fellow can get heaps and heaps of fun out of life without playing mean tricks or being cruel to birds and animals.”

“Hear! hear!” exclaimed Billy, softly clapping his hands in applause.

“If to-morrow is fine, I hope the whole bunch will come up here again,” urged Arthur at this point. “We surely must get photographs of those queer rocky shelters, to show the judges when we put in our claim for ten points. Hugh, will you come, for one?”

“I certainly will, Arthur, and hope both the other fellows will be along, for they ought to be in the pictures.”

“Oh! there’s only going to be one, you know, Hugh; unless we happen to strike a bevy of young partridges with their mother. I’ve got a quail sitting on her nest, but always wanted a group picture of the partridge family.”

“Well, we’ll have to order up one for you, then, Arthur,” chuckled Bud.

Just then Arthur, not looking very closely where he stepped, stumbled over something that lay in the trail.

“Look here, fellows, what does this mean?” he exclaimed, stooping to pick up the object. “A splinter of wood torn from a tree, and as fresh as anything! Why, I wonder if the lightning could have done that? Look around, fellows, and—oh! just see what happened to that tree! Why, the whole ground’s covered with the wreckage! What a terrible thing a bolt of lightning is, isn’t it, Hugh?”

“One of the most fearful things known,” Hugh replied; “but look again, Arthur, and tell me if you think you ever saw this same tree before!”

Billy fairly held his breath as he waited to hear what the other’s reply would be, for he had already seen that which told him the truth.

“Why, you don’t expect me to have a speaking acquaintance with every tree in the