It's likely the farmer's house itself is just beyond that line of trees, but he won't be coming out to this crib to-night." "Not likely.

Too much darkness and rain.

Hurry, Sergeant, I can hear already the rush of the rain in the forest." They ran across the field, burst open the door of the crib, leaped in and banged the door shut again, just as the van of the rain beat upon it with an angry rush.
Save for a crack or two they had no light, but they stood upon a dry floor covered deep with corn shucks, and heard the rain sweep and roar upon the roof.

On one side was a heap of husked corn which they quickly piled against the door in order to hold it before the assaults of the wind, and then they sought warm places among the shucks.
It was a small crib, and the rain drove in at the cracks, but it furnished abundant shelter for its two new guests.

Dick had never been in a finer hotel.