t we're not going to get anything
like that this time."

As the boys were talking, the distant tornado suddenly raised itself
from the ground and seemed to be drawn up in the clouds again. The
danger from the funnel was over. A few minutes afterwards, there came a
clap of thunder and the rain commenced to fall in torrents. It rained
for less than a minute, however, then was followed by a few hailstones
as large as walnuts. The hail stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

Yet, though the funnel cloud had been withdrawn again into the sky,
though the rain and hail had ceased, the two boys did not move from the
doorway of the club-house. The sky was pressing down heavily and in the
masses of clouds that seemed to be moving in every direction, the
whitish luminous cloud and the greenish black cloud could both be
traced. This was no puny battle of the elements, but a veritable war.

Then, absolutely without warning, as suddenly as though some malevolent
demon had picked them out for destruction, from the low-lying bank of
clouds that was advancing, a long black swaying clutch thrust at them
from the clouds. For a second or two the funnel swayed as though there
were eyes in its tip and then snatched at the earth with a roar and
crash like a thousand trains in collision.

While one could count three, the lads watched, panic-stricken, then
Anton shouted:

"Run north-west, Ross! North-west!"

Like a flash the Forecaster's advice in the event of the approach of a
tornado recurred to the boy's mind, and he sprang into a full run. Ten
yards, perhaps, he ran, then cast a glance over his shoulder to see if
Anton were following. He saw the younger lad huddling down by the
south-western corner of the club-house.

Ross colored with shame. For one second he had forgotten Anton's
crippled condition.

He whirled on his heel with a speed scarcely less than that of the
approaching tornado and darted back for his friend. A dozen strides took
him back and he reached down for the younger lad.

As he did so, with the corner of his eye, he saw the tornado touch a
neighbor's barn. The moaning suddenly swelled into a vicious and
snapping roar. The point of the tornado enlarged, as it became filled
with the debris of the barn, and Ross fancied he could hear the
squealing of the mangled horses.

Out from the upper part of the wild whirl, high in the sky, a black spot
flew. Thrown at a tangent, it fell, growing larger and more bat-like as
i