"Oh, well," he said philosophically, "I can't be any wetter than I am already."
Frank consoled him.
"When we get to that cave we'll light a fire and dry ourselves out a bit."
They at length reached the floor of the ravine where little streams of water were coursing from the upper levels to the sea and splashing across to the beach. It was only a few yards from there to the black entrance of the cave, which was well above the reach of high tide.
Frank led the way.
He took a flashlight from his pack as the boys hastened into the dark mouth of the cavern. They were in shelter, at any rate, and they could look out at the streaming rain and feel thankful that they had a roof over their heads, although that roof was a rocky one.
Frank directed the beam of the flashlight into the gloomy interior and in its gleam he saw that their shelter was no mere niche in the face of the cliff, but a cave that led to dark and unknown depths.
"Looks as if we can start our exploring right here and now," he said.
"Explore my neck!" grumbled Chet. "Let's have a fire."
"How about firewood?" inquired the practical Biff.