"Can't help that," returned George, decidedly. "It's better to be wet than dead."
There was no denying this, and they had to leave the shelter of the trees. They crouched down in the lee of some stunted bushes but these offered little protection.
"If we were only near that cave of ours," mourned Bob.
"Or any other old cave," amended Frank. "I'm not particular."
"I feel as wet as if I'd just been fished out of the brook," complained Sammy.
"You'll be wetter yet before you're through," was all the comfort George had to offer.
"Impossible," groaned Sammy.
"How far off do you think we are from the ranch, George?" asked Bob, despairingly.
"Fifteen miles if we're an inch," answered George.
"Jiminy!" exclaimed Frank. "Fifteen miles to walk and your shoes sloshing water at every step."