“Quit that!  I want to get out.”

It was Dave Darrin’s voice, and Dave was the quickest-tempered one of the six boys.

Fred knew that it behooved him to get away from the spot at once.  There was a wriggling under the canvas.  Ripley turned to flee.

Gr-r-r-r!  Towser stood barring his path.

“Hurry up, Darrin!” appealed Fred, as Towser moved closer, showing his teeth.  “Hurry!  Or this dog will chew me up.”

“Who’s there?” called Darrin, thrusting his head out of the collapsed tent, then drawing the rest of his body after.

Another flash of lightning showed Ripley’s frightened face.

“Oh, you, is it?” uttered Dave in a tone full of scorn.

“Hurry and quiet this bull-dog!” the lawyer’s son insisted.

“Don’t worry,” retorted Darrin calmly.  “Towser wouldn’t sink his teeth very deep in you!  He’s a self-respecting dog.”

Now that one of the members of the canoe club was on the spot, the bull pup displayed less ferocity.  He contented himself with eyeing Fred, ready to spring at a second’s notice.

“What has happened?” demanded Dave, looking rather bewilderedly at the tent.

“Your shack was struck by lightning,” Fred answered glibly, and then, ever ready to lie, he added, “I was passing by in the car, in a hurry to get back to the hotel, and I saw the thing happen.  The lightning ran along the ridge-pole, then down into the tent and out at the sides along the ground.  I’m afraid same of your fellows have been struck.  At first I thought all of you had been killed, so I ran down here to investigate.”

But Dave paid little heed to the last part of this statement.  He had seized hold of one side of the canvas, holding it up.

“Dick!” he called lustily.  “Tom, Greg, Dan, Harry!”

There was no response.  The thunder continued to boom louder than ever.

“Hold this canvas up,” Dave Darrin ordered sharply, and Ripley, knowing that Towser was eyeing him, obeyed.  Inside crawled Darrin, shaking each of his friends in turn and calling to them.

“I can’t wake ’em!  I can’t get ’em to speak,” reported Darrin, crawling out again, his face white with anguish.  “I’m afraid they’ve been-----”

“Yes,” nodded Ripley, in a hoarse voice.  “They’re dead!”

“How did you say you got here?” demanded Dave suddenly.  “In a car?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll prop the canvas up to let air inside the tent, and then you’ll drive me to the Hotel Pleasant as fast as you can go!”

“Maybe I won’t,” jeered Fred.

“Maybe you will,” retorted Dave Darrin indignantly.  His voice rang with righteous contempt.  “Either you’ll stand by at a time like this, or I’ll fall upon you tooth and nail—–­with the very able help of the dog!”

Gr-r-r-r! approved Towser, again showing his teeth.

“I—–­I’ll take you!” quavered Ripley.