Biff Hooper did not care to seem guilty of cowardice by staying behind while his companions returned to the house, and he was on the point of a reluctant consent when the matter was suddenly solved for them all by a downpour of rain.
Storm clouds had been gathering in the sky for the past hour and there had been dull rumblings of thunder. Now an uneasy wind stirred the branches of the trees and rustled dismally among the undergrowth. There was a spatter of raindrops, and then the storm broke in abrupt violence. Rain poured down in sheets.
"The motorcycles!" cried Frank.
Turning up their coat collars, the boys ran through the thick grass until they reached the place where their machines had been parked.
"I saw an old shed near the house," called out Joe. "We can put the bikes under cover."
There was an abandoned wagon shed near the rear of the house, and toward this refuge the lads trundled the heavy motorcycles. Although the shed was almost falling to pieces, the roof was still in fairly good condition and the machines were safe from the downpour.
"Come on," said Frank, when the motorcycles had been placed under cover. "Let's go back into the house."
He led the way, running across the open
