"It may not be so bad as that," observed George, trying to pick out what bright spots he could. "This storm may not last long, and if the sun comes out we'll soon be dry again. Then, too, the horses, when they get over their fright, will make a bee line for home. Mr. Claxton will know there's something wrong and he'll send out some of his men to hunt us up. They'll take us up behind them and we can ride double till we get to the ranch."
"How are we to know in what direction the ranch is unless the sun comes out?" questioned Frank. "I haven't any idea how to get home without the sun or a compass."
"Neither have I," George had to confess. "But I guess we'll make it somehow."
This was not very reassuring, and it became less so as the storm kept on with no sign of stopping. Two or three hours passed, and the boys were getting desperate. Then, at last, the rain ceased to fall. But it was well on in the afternoon, and there was no prospect of getting home till long after dark.
They set out, however, in what they thought was the right direction. But, as has been said, this was an unfamiliar part of the ranch to them and there were no landmarks to guide them. They soon grew utterly bewildered. The lowering sky gave them no indication of what was east or west.
Then, too, their hope of getting help from the ranch grew less and less. The heavy rain had washed out all traces of their horses' tracks, and the cowboys, who could easily have trailed them on a fair day, had no chance at all on this sodden ground. It began to look as though they would have to pass the night on the prairie, wet to the skin and without food and shelter.
They were trudging along dispiritedly, when George, who was in front, suddenly gave a joyous exclamation.
"Hurrah, fellows!" he shouted. "I see a fire!"