An hour went by, when of a sudden the rain increased once more. Then came a rush of wind that shook all of the tents violently.
"We are not out of it yet, it would seem," said Dick, as he sat up on his cot to listen to the flapping of the canvas in the company street.
He had hardly spoken when another gust of wind tore down on the camp. There was a ripping of cloth and a crashing of poles, and then a cry for help sounded from several places at once.
CHAPTER XIX
A STORM IN CAMP
"Say, fellows, are we all going up in a balloon!" cried Sam Rover, as he rolled off his cot in a great hurry.
One whole side of the tent was loose and the structure was in danger of tumbling down on the inmates' heads.
"Help!" came from the next tent. "I'm being smothered!"
"That's Lew Flapp!" said a cadet. "What's up now, Flapp?" he called out.
No answer came back, and now canvases could be heard ripping in all directions.