storm now, sure!"

"I was almost certain we'd catch it," said Dave. He unscrewed the pump
from the wheel. "Roger, we had better get back to that hotel just as
fast as we can."

"My idea, exactly, Dave, for I don't want to be caught on this hilly
road in a storm."

"Better put the top up," advised the shipowner's son. "It's going to
pour in a few minutes."

"And hadn't we better put on the chains, too, Roger?" questioned Dave.
"It may be dangerous work going down the hill if it rains hard."

"Yes, we'll put up the top and put on the chains," was the quick reply
of the senator's son. "You fellows attend to the top and I'll see to the
chains."

By the time the top had been put up and fastened it was raining
steadily. Also, the wind was beginning to blow, showing that the
downpour was liable to become worse.

"Fasten the side curtains, Phil; I'll help with the chains!" sang out
Dave, and while the shipowner's son and Bert fastened the curtains, so
as to keep out the driving rain, our hero aided Roger.

"You'll get wet, Dave; better get in the car," panted Roger, who was
working as rapidly as circumstances permitted.

"No wetter than you," answered Dave, and then he pulled the second
chain in place and fastened it. Both boys got into the touring-car just
as a heavy crash of thunder sounded out.

"Phew! listen to that, and look at the lightning!" cried Phil. "Say, if
you are ready, Roger, we had better get out of here!"

"If you can only get back to the hotel," murmured Bert, anxiously. "If I
were you I'd not think of going home until the storm clears away."

"Back to the hotel will be enough for me," answered Roger. "All ready?"
he asked, for he had already cranked up.

"All ready," answered Dave, who had gotten on the front seat, thus
allowing Bert and Phil the better shelter of the tonneau of the car.

The senator's son started up the automobile and made a circle on the top
of the hill. Then, just as there came another flash of lightning and a
loud crash of thunder, the boys began the long and perilous journey down
the rough road leading from Sugar Hill.

CHAPTER IV

A QUESTION OF STOCKS

"Some rain, believe me!"

It was Dave who uttered the remark, as the touring-car commenced the
long and dangerous descent of Sugar Hill. A sheet of water was dashing
against the wind-shield, which had been raised as high as possible.

"I wish it was driving the other way," answered Roger, who was peering