It was raining now, in sheets. The boys were quickly soaked to the skin; but neither of them paid the least attention to this fact, which, after all, was of minor Importance.
"Frank, do you think it's going to reach up here?" called Bob, as he watched the rising line of water come within three feet of the ledge.
"I hope not," came the reply, and then Bob saw that his chum was moving along the ledge looking carefully above as though in hopes of finding it possible to climb higher, in case of necessity.
"Any chance of getting up the rocks, Frank?" he asked again, a minute later.
"Mighty little, Bob," replied the other, dropping beside him; "how's the water coming along?"
"Less'n two feet from us now, and still rising," reported Bob, disconsolately.
"But it comes slowly, you notice," Frank declared, with hope in his voice.
"I could just touch it the last time the lightning played; now I can put my hand clear in it!" Bob called, uneasily.
Another minute passed. The lightning was of considerable assistance to the trapped saddle boys, for it enabled them to see. Frank had lost his lantern during the climb, as it was torn from his belt by a rock he struck; so that only for this heavenly illumination they must have been in utter darkness. And when peril threatens it is some satisfaction at least to see the worst.
"Now it's only one foot down, Frank!" cried Bob.