The storm kept growing in violence until the cottage fairly shook from the fury of the wind. There was much thunder and lightning, with some crashing in the woods close at hand, that caused both Baxter and d.i.c.k to start in alarm.

d.i.c.k was doing his best to free himself and at last managed to get one hand loose.

He had already found that to attempt forcing the door was useless. Now he tried the walls of the closet and then the flooring and the ceiling.

He was much gratified to find that the boards of the ceiling were not fastened down. With a great effort he managed to raise himself and after a minute of hard work found himself in the tiny loft of the cottage. Here the patter of the rain was strong and the water was leaking in everywhere.

"I"ll have to drop to the ground and run for it," he told himself, and crawled to where there was a tiny window just large enough to admit the pa.s.sage of his body.

It was no easy matter to get down to the ground with one hand still fastened behind him, and d.i.c.k made rather slow work of it. The rain beat in at the window, and soon he was soaked to the skin.

Where to go next he did not know. To journey far in such a storm was entirely out of the question.

d.i.c.k had hardly gotten to the edge of the woods when a blinding flash of lightning and a ripping crash of thunder fairly lifted him from his feet.

"Oh!" he gasped, and staggered to a tree for support. "My, but that was close!"

It was not until a moment later that he realized what had occurred. The lightning had struck the cottage, ripping off a corner of the roof and descending into the room below. The structure was now a ma.s.s of flames.

"The cottage is on fire!" murmured the youth. "Wonder if the Baxters have been struck?"

The wind quickly drove the fire in all directions until the cottage was in flames almost from end to end.

Staggering from the effects of the shock, d.i.c.k drew closer to the building and then tried the door, to find it locked.

"Help!" came faintly, in Arnold Baxter"s voice. "Help!"

"Open the door," returned d.i.c.k, forgetting that it was an enemy who was calling for a.s.sistance.

"I--I cannot. I--I am helpless!"

Again d.i.c.k tried the door, but without success. Then he leaped for the window. Some of the gla.s.s was broken, and with his naked fist he drove in the whole sash, and tore down the flapping curtain.

The sight which met his gaze filled him with horror. The room was on fire in several places and in a corner, near the chimney piece, rested Arnold Baxter, pinned down by a section of brick and stonework that had fallen. He had been hit in the head, and from the wound the blood was flowing.

"Rover, is that you?" he cried faintly. "Don"t desert me!"

Without replying, d.i.c.k began to crawl in through the broken window. The air was filled with smoke and he could scarcely see what he was doing.

The sparks, too, were flying in all directions and only the wetness of his garments kept them from catching fire.

He was soon at Arnold Baxter"s side, and with his one free hand hurled the bricks and stones in all directions. As he worked the fire kept coming closer, until his face was fairly blistered by the conflagration.

At last the man was free. But he could not raise himself up, and when d.i.c.k did it Arnold Baxter fell a limp form in his arm. He had fainted.

Mustering up all the strength that remained to him, d.i.c.k dragged the unconscious man to the door. There was a bar to be flung aside and then d.i.c.k threw the barrier wide open. It was none too soon, for now the fire was swirling in all directions. Staggering beneath his burden the youth hurried into the open and then fell flat, with Arnold Baxter beside him.

"What a close call!" murmured d.i.c.k, when he was able to rise. He felt weak in the knees, and his hands and face smarted from the blistering received. He looked at Arnold Baxter. The man had not yet recovered and looked to be more dead than alive.

d.i.c.k remembered having crossed a brook but a short distance away, and to this he went and bathed his burns and brought some water back for Arnold Baxter. His other hand had now become free, so he could work to much better advantage.

"He has been seriously hurt, that is certain," thought the youth.

"Perhaps he breathed in some of the flames. If he did that he may never get over it."

Left to itself the cottage burnt to the ground and then the falling rain put out the hissing embers. In the meantime d.i.c.k did what he could to restore Arnold Baxter to consciousness, and at last had the satisfaction of seeing the man open his eyes.

"Oh!" murmured the man. "The fire--"

"You are out of it," answered d.i.c.k soothingly.

"Did you--did you haul me out?"

"Yes."

"It was good of you to do it, Rover," said Arnold Baxter, and then he fainted once more.

CHAPTER x.x.x

TURNING A NEW LEAF--CONCLUSION

The night was a long one for d.i.c.k Rover and he was glad when the storm cleared away and the first streaks of dawn began to show themselves in the eastern sky.

Arnold Baxter had recovered consciousness, but was evidently in great pain, for he moaned almost constantly. d.i.c.k was willing to aid the sufferer, yet could do little or nothing.

"Tell me the way to our camp and I will get help," said d.i.c.k at last.

And Arnold Baxter gave him the directions as best he could.

"I must have a doctor," whispered the man hoa.r.s.ely. "If not, I"ll surely die. And I don"t want to die yet, Rover!"

As well as he was able, d.i.c.k set off for the lake sh.o.r.e and then began to move in the direction of Ba.s.s Island.

He had not gone very far when he heard somebody calling his name.

"Rover! d.i.c.k Rover!" was the cry. "d.i.c.k Rover!"

"It must be a searching party," he thought, and he was right. The party contained Tom and Sam, and Mr. Strong, and they said that two other parties were out, one headed by Captain Putnam and the other by an a.s.sistant.

"Where in the world have you been?" asked Tom. "We have been scared almost to death over your absence."

"It"s a long story," answered d.i.c.k. "What I want just now is a doctor and a lot of salve. Just look at me, will you?"

"Blisters!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sam. "Where did you get those?"

"In a fire that nearly burnt Arnold Baxter to death. I want the doctor for him."

And then d.i.c.k had to tell the particulars of how he had run across the cottage in the woods and of what had followed.

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