"It won't keep us dry—we're wet now. But it will protect us from the worst force of this cloud-burst."
They went back to their camping site and arranged the slicker as best they could—carefully putting the bag of money and the box of tools under it, before they crawled in themselves. The bushes were wet, and so was the ground, but the girls were saved the discomfort of having the rain actually pour in their faces.
They watched the storm for some time, hoping that it would soon abate, and finally, becoming drowsy, they fell asleep again, with their feet sticking out under the covering.
Cramped by the awkward position, they awakened in a couple of hours. Daylight had arrived—but not sunlight. It was still raining steadily and dismally.
"Don't you suppose we can go today?" asked Dot.
"Maybe later on," replied Linda, cheerfully. "There's one thing good about this, Dot. We can get a drink."
"How heavenly!" exclaimed the other, sitting up. "But how do we manage it? We won't get much by just opening our mouths!"
"Get up carefully. I'm sure there's a lot of water lodging on the top of this slicker. Wait—get the thermos bottles out of the tool-box first. We'll use the cups, and then stand them up to catch the rain as it falls."
Linda's surmise was correct; there was so much water on the slicker that it was in danger of collapsing any moment. They dipped their cups into the pool and drank eagerly. How good it tasted to their parched throats!