[CHAPTER XXIX]
IN THE OLD BARN
If there is one thing more than another which makes life in camp, whether it be in the army or merely a pleasure excursion in the woods, most miserable, it is rain. Snow does not seem so bad, but a soaking rain seems not only to wet one through literally, but also mentally. It depresses the spirits, though, in itself, a good rain is a blessing.
“I say, Corporal!” called Charles Hatton, one of the recruits out with the hiking squad. “There’s an old barn not far off. I’ll be washed away soon. We could go into that shack out of the rain, I should think.”
“I should think so, too,” agreed Jerry. “We’ll do it. I didn’t suppose the storm would be as bad as this, or we’d have gone into the barn in the first place. However, it isn’t too late, except that we’re already wet through.”
“But we can dry out in there, and have a good night’s sleep,” said Bob, who loved his creature comforts, including sleeping and eating.
Jerry gave the necessary orders. The dog tents were struck, those that had blown down were recovered and, carrying their packs, the boys made a rush through the storm for a somewhat dilapidated and seemingly deserted barn which stood in a field, not far from the spot where camp had first been made.
“Well, this is something like!” exclaimed Ned, as they entered the structure. The swinging doors, sagging on their hinges, had not been locked, but, even if they had been, Jerry felt he would have been justified in breaking them open, agreeing to pay for the damage done, as he was authorized to do.
“Well, there’s some hay I’m going to hit, as soon as I get dried out a bit,” declared Bob, as he flashed his electric light on the mow. It was not full, but enough hay remained to make a good bed for the tired soldiers.