[CHAPTER XII—A RECORD BREAKER]
“More showers than those of cakes and cookies,” said Miss Mackin from the depths of her pine needle pillow. “Just hear that!”
Thunder rolled and the rain was finding its way through the trees.
“Whew!” Louise almost whistled. “Just hear the wild roar!”
Like a concrete body the “roar” rolled down the mountain, and with a terrific rip and tear it hit the tent.
“Oh, mercy!” cried Cleo.
“Hold on to your bunks!” cautioned Grace.
This they actually did, for the wind had struck with such cyclonic force it seemed the canvas would be torn from its moorings.
“We have good shelter here,” Miss Mackin assured the anxious ones. “There is no need for alarm.”
If they agreed with her no one said so, for the tent flapped and flapped and tried its best to follow the dare of that wind, until it seemed surely something must give way.