He pointed to a dark patch of moisture on one of the walls.
“Oh, that?” Lon tried to speak lightly. “Guess there may be a few of the old shingles loose.”
The Shark jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “If you look in the corner, you’ll find a small waterfall going. I’ve been hearing the splash for a quarter of an hour. I don’t care a rap, but I do like to have things stated accurately. The roof must be like a sieve!”
“Oh, well, what are the odds?” queried Sam, as cheerily as he could.
The Shark waved a hand. “I’m not kicking on the facts, but on the errors of statement—that’s all.”
“Well, state it to suit yourself,” said Sam; but the Shark did not accept the invitation.
There was a pause in the talk, and it was a long pause. The drip, drip of more than one little stream was audible, except when the noises from without rose above all other sounds. The fall of the rain was like a steady drone; the wind was beginning to rise, and now and then a squall whipped the branches of an overhanging tree against the house; at intervals could be heard the harsh grating of ice against ice, as the floes went drifting by. Twice or thrice floating masses struck the house blows that made the old structure tremble, and then ground along the side till the flood carried them clear.
Not a member of the party from Lon down to the Shark but was considering their situation and its dangers, each in his own way. For all the conclusion was the same: there was nothing for it but to remain where they were. If the flood rose no higher, they would not fare very badly. The house, ancient though it might be, plainly was still a strong structure, capable of withstanding much battering. Lon, who broke the silence, phrased the opinion of the group:
“When the old Dominie built, he built for keeps—no jerry work for him, I tell you! Big beams, heavy timbers—wood was the cheapest thing outdoors in his times. And wooden pegs to hold ’em together. Why, boys, I’ve seen folks tryin’ to tear down an old house like this one, and they pretty nigh had to use dynamite to unjoint the frame. Don’t believe that? Umph! They had to use a yoke of oxen, then, if that’ll suit you better.”
“Either story suits us well enough,” said Sam; and with that the talk languished.