Fred knew that it behooved him to get away from the spot at once.
There was a wriggling under the canvas. Ripley turned to flee.
Gr-r-r-r! Towser stood barring his path.
"Hurry up, Darrin!" appealed Fred, as Towser moved closer, showing his teeth. "Hurry! Or this dog will chew me up."
"Who's there?" called Darrin, thrusting his head out of the collapsed tent, then drawing the rest of his body after.
Another flash of lightning showed Ripley's frightened face.
"Oh, you, is it?" uttered Dave in a tone full of scorn.
"Hurry and quiet this bull-dog!" the lawyer's son insisted.
"Don't worry," retorted Darrin calmly. "Towser wouldn't sink his teeth very deep in you! He's a self-respecting dog."
Now that one of the members of the canoe club was on the spot, the bull pup displayed less ferocity. He contented himself with eyeing Fred, ready to spring at a second's notice.
"What has happened?" demanded Dave, looking rather bewilderedly at the tent.