ollowed him wherever he went; "you
three keep right along as you're doing now. Make the shack as snug as
you can; and if it'll shed water, so much the better; though I don't
think we're going to get any more rain just at present."

Bandy-legs was at his side, and together they strode away. It was no
great task to keep heading up-stream, because they had frequent
glimpses of the heaving surface of the flood, which was ever at their
right, because they had landed on the western shore, and were heading
north at the time.

"Thought I heard dogs abarkin' just then," observed Bandy-legs, who had
good ears as well as sharp eyes.

"Yes, I did too, but somewhere away up on the wooded hills there. Like
as not this flood has chased plenty of dogs away from their homes, and
they may be running in packs, hunting something to eat."

"Huh! hope we don't happen to run foul of a pack then," Bandy-legs
insinuated; "and for fear that we do I'm going to be ready."

With that he picked up a rather stout cudgel which he swung a few times
as if to accustom his arm to the motion.

Apparently Max did not think there was any particular reason for alarm.
He must have figured that the dogs they had heard were hunting game a
mile or two back in the woods, and that there was little chance of
their coming closer to the river.

"I can see the house ahead there," he announced five minutes later.

"Yes, and it's surrounded by water too," added his chum; "no wonder the
folks got out and left; they'd be silly to stay till it was too late.
Why, that cabin might be carried off any time like the other house was,
even if it ain't so far out I reckon we must have drifted half a mile
further down when we kept rowing so hard; because that was a stiff
current, believe me."

"Fully half a mile, Bandy-legs," Max assured him, and then fell to
craning his neck in the endeavor to locate the woman they believed they
had seen among the trees at a point where the water ended.

Two minutes later and Max uttered a satisfied exclamation.

"I see the woman," he told his companion, "and just as we thought she's
an old person, bent over considerably. Perhaps she couldn't go far
away after she had to quit her house; perhaps she's nearly as helpless
as the crippled French child. If it wasn't for Mabel being unable to
walk we might be trying to find shelter back in the country right now.
Come on and we'll interview her. She may be glad to go with us, and
spend