"The banker at Asheville, sir. Why?"
"Oh, nothing much except that I'd like to be a judge and have that banker come up before me just once—just once, mind you."
"I am inclined to agree with you, young man," replied the Professor. "Were there a reasonable chance for him to get home alive I should be for sending Veal there at once."
"What are we going to do now?" cried Ned running up to them, now fully clothed, with oilskins covering his body down to the knees.
"We are going to try to get out of here. Hurry with the tents. Strike the camp in a rush, boys!" commanded Tad.
"If we wait long enough the lightning will do that for us," jeered Stacy.
"No levity, gentlemen," was the Professor's stern command. "This is a time for action, not so-called humor."
"Yassir," piped the fat boy.
The tents came down quickly, but they were not packed with the usual care. Instead they were folded up hastily and stowed in the packs of the various boys. The lads worked like tentmen striking circus tents when looking forward to a long run to the next town. The result was that the equipment was ready for moving in almost record time. The water was plainly rising as Tad could see by the light of the flickering lanterns.
"Now, Professor, we are all ready," announced Butler finally. "What would you suggest?"