“Oh! that’s because we’re wet to the bone,” the tall chum asserted. “Since we can’t help ourselves we’ve just got to grin and bear it. Lots of fellows may be a heap worse off than we are right now.”
He was thinking of Perk, of course; but Amos had another person in mind when, during a brief lull in the roaring of the storm he was heard to groan, and say half to himself:
“I wonder where he can be; and if he’s out in all this terrible storm, poor old dad!”
Wee Willie might have reassured him had he chosen. He could have told Amos that those who have descended to the low level of becoming plain ordinary hoboes, tramping the highways, and counting the railroad ties in their peregrinations to and fro over the country, are as a rule, able to foresee the coming of bad weather, and generally manage to find some shelter in advance.
However, he did not say this, because to do so would hurt the feelings of Amos; who seemed still to have considerable love for the father he had not seen nor heard from for several long years.
How the minutes dragged!
Wee Willie, too, had now begun to shiver, though he would not have admitted that he was cold had he been accused of such a thing. While the rain did not gain admittance to the space under the overlapping ledge of rock, the wind could not be kept entirely out; and owing to their being so wet this caused them much inconvenience, to say the least.
“Don’t you believe it’s letting up some, Elmer?” pleaded Amos, after a bit.
“I was just thinking so myself when you spoke,” came the reply. “Yes, the rain, you see, has almost stopped, though the wind keeps up a great roaring in the treetops. But it’s lost some of its fury to boot; I haven’t heard a tree crash down for some time.”
“Huh! guess all the weak brothers have been knocked silly by now!” grunted Wee Willie, using this method of speaking because he could disguise the fact that his teeth were rattling like the castanets he had once seen a Spanish dancer use at a concert.