CHAPTER XXIII

THE STAMPEDE


"What d'ye call this, anyway?" exclaimed Bluff, panting with his
exertions.

"I'd say it was crowding the mourners, for these things to chase each
other so fast, and the elements to make playthings out of four confiding
chums," said Frank.

"Tell me about that, will you! First a scorching, then put to soak,
after which comes another hot experience, and now treed by a flood! Upon
my word, things are happening a little too rapid even for me," put in
Jerry.

"There!" remarked Will, with a satisfied chuckle. "I think you three
fellows will make a splendid showing, perched along that limb like a lot
of crows, and the water rolling along below."

"Talk to me about the industrious photographer! If that chap hasn't
taken our pictures in this ridiculous attitude! Why, they'll believe
we've gone back to the old days, when our ancestors used to live in
trees."

"Speak for yourself, Jerry. I refuse to admit that I am descended from a
monkey," declared Bluff indignantly.