The rain kept on without the slightest cessation. In fact, it seemed to
increase every minute in volume. Fully half an hour passed by. Neither lad
thought of leaving shelter, and Bob had stretched himself out. The
conversation languished. Then Frank, catching himself nodding, sat up and
looked out of the window, noticing that his rugged, healthy comrade was
breathing heavily in profound slumber.

"There's a light coming this way," spoke Frank to himself, as he peered
from the window. "If it's a wagon, I'll hustle down and see if there's any
chance of a lift in the direction of the school. Hello, it's two men!
Hello again--they're coming right here to this hut. There, I can hear them
at the front door."

Frank was convinced a minute later that the newcomers lived in the cabin,
or at least had secured the right to occupy the place. He could hear them
at the padlock, and then their lantern illumined the room below. Gazing
through a crack in the floor, Frank could make out all they did and was
able to overhear their conversation.

They were two rough-looking, trampish fellows. Each threw a bundle on the
floor. The room had some old boxes in it and a pile of hay in one corner.
The men seated themselves on boxes and let the water drip from their soaked
clothing.

"That was a pretty husky tramp," spoke one of them.

"I see the governor isn't here yet."

"No; so it's up to us to get as comfortable as we can."