But the little brown house was shut up tight. The curtains were all
pulled down, and a general air of "not at home" pervaded even the
clapboards and the morning-glory vine over the door. Only the neat
little barn looked hospitable. Its doors stood open wide. A distant
rumble of thunder suddenly sounded, and the sky darkened with ominous
swiftness.

"Going to rain," Kent said.

"Sure," added Jot. "Look at those clouds, will you? We'd better get
into a hole somewhere."

"We'll go into the barn," decided Old Tilly, after a minute's thought,
"and if it rains all night, we'll stay there. We can't do any harm."

It rained all night. Shower after shower burst over them heavily, and
there was a continual boom of thunder in their ears. A slight respite
at midnight was followed by the most terrific shower of all. The boys
huddled together in the hay, with awe-struck faces, but unafraid. They
could not sleep in such a magnificent tumult of nature.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash of lightning, then a crash. The
whole universe seemed tottering about them. Dizzy and stunned, they
gazed at each other, unable to move for an instant. Then it was Jot who
sprang up in tremulous haste.

"I smell smoke--we're afire!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," Old Tilly cried, striving to be calm, "it struck this barn."