GETTING OUT THE GOLD
With a rush and a roar the storm descended, increasing in intensity each minute. Well it was for the Racer boys and their chum that they had reached the cave in time, for they would have found it almost impossible to make their way up the side of the hill in that downpour.
"A cloudburst; eh?" echoed Frank, as he came to the entrance of the cavern and stood beside Billy. "It's lucky we got in on time."
"I should say so," agreed Andy. "Look at it rain!"
The water was coming down in sheets, and they could see scarcely ten feet beyond the mouth of the cave. It seemed as if that terrific thunder clap had actually shattered a cloud, and the rain, instead of coming down in drops, was descending in torrents.
"If those other fellows—Shackmiller's crowd—are out on Golden Peak now they'll need umbrellas," observed Andy, with grim wit.
"That's right," agreed his brother. "Lucky if they don't slide down to the bottom."
"And that's likely to happen," added Billy. "Look at those small rivers of mud and water."
He pointed to big rivulets that were coursing down the side of the hill on either hand from the opening to the big cave. Horse or man would have found it difficult to make progress against them, for they washed the soil out from under foot.
"Well, now that we're here, what shall we do?" asked Frank. "No use standing looking at the rain, even if it is a cloudburst."