iz," ventured Jess, for the maid-of-all-work had not come with
them to the cabin.

Laura threw the door open, in spite of the flashing lightning. Lil
shrieked and even some of the other girls cowered as the lightning
played across the sky. But before the thunder burst forth again, Laura
heard another sound--and it was not the Barnacle baying.

Lizzie Bean, in the cook-tent, was screaming in a queer and stifled
way.

CHAPTER XVI

WHERE THE BARNACLE'S NOSE LED HIM

The rain descended in torrents before the cabin door. E'er Laura could
plunge into it, Jess dragged her back and slammed the door.

"Don't be a goose, Laura!" she cried.

"She--she----Something is the matter with Liz," declared Laura.

"Of course not!"

"I tell you, I heard her. And there's the dog barking again."

"You can't go through that rain----"

"I will!" declared Laura, and she wrenched open the door once more.
Jess could not hold her. Mother Wit plunged out into the storm.

Never having deserted her chum but once--and then involuntarily at a
certain occasion long ago--Jess was not going to be behind now. She
dove likewise into the storm.

The rain beat upon the two girls in a fashion to almost take their
breath away. Never had they been so beaten by the elements.

They staggered, almost fell, clung together, and then bent their
heads to the downpour and pressed on. The flickering lantern still
illuminated the cook-tent. The awning was dropped and the canvas
heaved and slatted against the poles.

The rain made so much noise that they did not hear Liz now. Or else,
she had ceased crying out. Laura and Jess pressed forward and--it
being but a few yards, after all, to the tent--they burst into the
kitchen in a moment more.

"Liz! Liz!" gasped Laura, almost breathless.

There was a noise behind the fluttering canvas partition. Was it the
girl in the sleeping part of the tent?

"Oh! somebody's there!" muttered Jess, clinging to her chum's hand.

Laura sprang forward and jerked apart the flap. She only feared that
something was the matter with Liz.

And there was, apparently. She was crouching down, against the far
wall of the tent, her hands over her face, and trembling like a leaf.

Afterward Laura thought over this scene with wonder. Lonesome Liz did
not seem like a girl who would be so terribly disturbed about a
thunder storm. She had shown no fear when the tempest began and the
other girls had scampered for the cabin.