It was Ned's intention, when he crawled out of the tent, to dodge behind the nearest tree, where he could see without being seen. But as he rose to his feet a dark figure suddenly obscured the faint embers of the fire, and a second later came the fall and the report which struck such a terror to Randy's heart as he waited in the darkness of the tent.

Ned understood the situation instantly. The unknown prowler had stumbled over the fireplace in his retreat, and the stolen gun had been exploded by striking the stones.

For two or three seconds there was nothing to indicate that the thief had been hit by the charge. Then a shrill yell rang through the woods and another and another in rapid succession.

"Randy! Randy! Come out here!" shouted Ned in a terrified voice. "Light the lantern and waken the boys."

The next instant Randy burst through the flaps.

"Here is the lantern," he gasped. "I have no matches. Good gracious! but you scared me. I thought you were shot."

"I'm not, but I fear some one else is," replied Ned as he hastily struck a match and applied it to the wick of the lantern.

That instant Clay hurried out of the tent, and the three boys advanced timidly to the fireplace. The supposed robber had ceased his outcry, and was propped in an upright position against a heap of stones. Ned turned the lantern on his face and staggered back with a cry of amazement.

"Why, it's Nugget!" he exclaimed. "What under the sun does this mean?"

It was indeed Nugget, and he looked the very picture of fright as he rolled his eyes wildly from one to the other of his friends. It was several seconds before he could speak.

"Where am I?" he gasped. "Who put me out here in the rain? I thought I heard a gun go off."

He was evidently not injured—the position of the gun proved that—and the boys began to appreciate the ludicrous side of the situation.

"You've been walking in your sleep," exclaimed Ned, as a sudden light broke on his mind. "I'll bet a dollar that's just it. Did you ever do such a thing before, Nugget?"

Nugget hesitated and passed his hand over his forehead.

"Yes," he said reflectively; "I used to walk in my sleep sometimes, but that was long ago. I thought the habit was broken."

"Don't you remember anything about this affair?" resumed Ned. "You must have taken Randy's gun and left the tent without waking us."

"Yes; I have a sort of recollection of it," answered Nugget sheepishly. "I guess I must have been dreaming. I thought I was in Central Park at home, and the animals broke out of the menagerie. I had a gun in my hand, and when a big lion ran after me I ran away. Then I fell over a bench and the gun went off—and—and I don't think I remember any more. It was an awful dream. I thought the lion would eat me up."

This story was more than the boys could stand. They laughed so long and heartily that Nugget recovered from his scare and got angry instead.

"You fellows would laugh the other way if that gun had been pointed toward the tent when it went off," he said sullenly; "and besides there is no fun in having such a dream."

"Nugget is right," exclaimed Ned. "The affair is too serious for ridicule. It's almost a miracle he was not shot. And by the way, Randy, I've told you often not to keep that gun loaded. Think what might have happened to-night in consequence of your folly."

Randy looked penitent, and for a wonder accepted the rebuke quietly.

"I forgot, Ned, indeed I did," he said earnestly. "I put a shell in for snipe this afternoon, and never thought about it again. After this I'll examine the gun every night."

"If it was accidental that alters the case," replied Ned. "And now suppose we turn in. There is no use in standing here in the rain any longer."

The boys went back to the tent, and to prevent a second attempt at sleep-walking they made Nugget take the middle place. Five minutes later all were sleeping as soundly as before the alarm.

The next morning it was raining hard, and in fact it continued to rain at intervals all of that day and the next. The boys found the time hang a little heavy, although they sallied out in rubber coats, and had some excellent sport fishing for catfish.

Cooking was not interfered with, since the fireplace was in a sheltered position, and the tent was at all times snug and waterproof, in spite of some of the heaviest showers that the boys had ever known.

Rain was still falling at daybreak on Saturday, but about ten o'clock the sky cleared, and the sun came out—greatly to the delight of the Jolly Rovers.

As the next day was Sunday, and the camp was in such a good location, they decided to remain until Monday morning. This turned out to be a wise decision, for shortly after dinner a thunder storm swept down the valley, and for several hours the rain fell in torrents. By evening not a cloud was in sight, and indications pointed to a spell of clear weather.

Of course the creek was by this time very high and muddy, and was still on the rise. The water had crept three feet up the slope on top of which the tent was pitched, but as three feet more remained to be covered the boys felt no uneasiness.

There was still higher ground behind them on which they could take refuge if the necessity came.

After supper Ned got out his map, and began to study it with great care.

"Has it occurred to any of you fellows that we are drawing near home?" he asked finally. "We passed Honck's dam on Wednesday afternoon, and our present camp is very near Sporting Green. There are only four more dams between us and the Susquehanna, and the distance can't be much over thirty miles."

The others were rather surprised to hear this, and could not make up their minds at first whether to be glad or sorry.

"I can hardly realize it," said Randy. "The time has certainly slipped by very quickly, and yet it was three weeks yesterday since we started."

"I hate to think that the cruise is nearly over," remarked Clay, "but all the same it will be nice to get home again."

Ned laughed as he folded up the map and put it in his pocket.

"I know just how you feel," he sad. "It will be very nice to sleep in a soft bed, and eat off a table again, and sit out on the boathouse porch in the evenings; but about a week after you get home you'll wish with all your heart you were back on the creek with the grass for a bed and a rock for a table. Canoeing is like ice cream—when you once taste it you are always wanting more. It reminds me of what I read about a famous African explorer. He was always glad to get back to civilization for a little while, and then he was more anxious than ever to return to his wild life. It seemed as though he couldn't breathe right anywhere but in Africa."

"I hope canoeing is like that," said Randy. "Then we will make lots more trips together. I feel just as you do about it, Ned. I don't like to see the cruise end, but it will be very nice in some ways to get home. Won't the other boys be envious when they see how sunburnt we are, and hear all about the exciting adventures we have had?"

"When will we reach the end of the creek?" asked Nugget with a rapturous expression. "Monday?"

"Hardly," replied Ned. "It will take longer than that. But why are you so anxious to get home, Nugget?"

"He wants to put on a suit of cream colored clothes," exclaimed Clay with mock gravity, "and a boiled shirt and high collar. He is longing to encase his lily white hands in kid gloves, and his dainty feet in patent leathers."

As Nugget blushed an angry red, and made no reply, it is to be presumed that Clay's remark contained more truth than fiction.

"You fellows are all counting your chickens too soon," said Ned. "A good many miles separate us from home, and as likely as not there are more rough times in store for us."

Lightly spoken and lightly meant were these words, but Ned recalled them under thrilling circumstances a day or two later.

All day Sunday the creek continued to rise slowly until it was just a foot from the top of the bank. It was stationary at nine o'clock in the evening, and when it began to fall two hours later the boys turned in, satisfied that the danger was over.

The water receded a foot and a half during the night, but when Monday morning dawned with a clear sky the flood was still a sight to behold as it rolled swiftly by the camp, its smooth yellow surface dotted with tangled grasses and driftwood.

As far as the boys could see was high and hilly land, but there was no doubt that the lowlands were inundated far on each side of the creek. The rains had been unusually heavy.