“Why, it seems to me the rain has let up, too, Jack!” exclaimed Buster, forcing his head through the opening in the tarpaulin cover of the well.
“In a few minutes more we can get rid of this old thing and breathe free once more,” Jack told him.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll be mighty glad,” said Buster, “because I’m nearly stewed as it is, with the heat below here; and that breeze feels mighty good to me. It won’t be near as warm after this storm, that’s sure.”
“Like as not, Buster,” advised Josh, shivering a little because of his wet condition, “we’ll all be frozen stiff before an hour goes by. Queer things happen over in this Danube country, I’m told.”
“Rats! You can’t scare me, Josh,” Buster immediately informed him; “course, since you’re all wet through and through you might freeze, but not a healthy specimen like me. This time we’ll have to make a fire for you other fellows, if we can find enough dry wood to burn, that is.”
Jack’s prediction was soon fulfilled. The break in the storm clouds grew rapidly in magnitude until quite a large sized patch of blue sky became visible. They soon had the tarpaulin dragged on top of the cabin roof to dry out; and when the sun appeared the pair who had been drenched took positive delight in sprawling there and letting the warm rays start drying their garments on them.
“Well, seems like we got through that scrape O. K.,” ventured Buster; “but we’re not yet out of the woods by a big lot. We’ve got a broken engine on our hands, and no means of fixing the same, even if we knew how to do it. What’s to be done now, Commodore Jack?”
Somehow the others always thought to give Jack his full title when relying on him to get them out of a scrape. But Jack let this significant fact pass, for he knew these three chums from the ground up, and could not hold a single thing against any one of them. And, as usual, he had a remedy ready for every disease.