“Oh!” Lee gazed doubtfully into the rain. “Well, anyway, it’ll do. Gee, my trousers are soaked to the knees! How long do you suppose this will keep up?”
“You said for two days,” answered Laurie, cheerfully, trying to dry his neck with a moist handkerchief.
“I mean this shower, you chump!”
“Call this a shower? What’s a cloud-burst like in this part of the country, then?”
“We don’t have such things,” answered George, who was peering through a side-light into the dim interior. “Say, I thought this place was empty,” he continued. “I can see chairs and a table in there.”
“No; some one rented it this fall,” said Lee. “I noticed the other day that the front door was open and the grass had been cut. I wouldn’t want to live in the place, though.”
“Why?” inquired Laurie.
But, before any answer came, the door was suddenly opened within a few inches of George’s nose and a voice said:
“You fellows had better come inside until it’s over.”