old Baxter paced the floor of the cottage uneasily.
Age was beginning to tell upon him and he was by no means the man he
was when introduced to the Rovers years before.

"I wish I was out of it," he murmured to himself. "I'd give a good deal
to be on the ocean this minute, bound for some place where I can make a
fresh start."

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 Dick
to start in alarm.

Dick 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
passage of his body.

It was no easy matter to get down to the ground with one hand still
fastened behind him, and Dick 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.

Dick 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 mass 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, Dick 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 Dick, forgetting that it was an enemy who was
calling f