ying that afternoon,
when the young observer ended his story of the Galveston hurricane. The
boys had been brought close to danger and they crowded around the
stranger with questions concerning the hurricane. The lads were all the
more thrilled by reason of the fact that the sky was becoming dark and
ominous, and that, even while the stranger spoke, the clouds grew more
threatening.

"There might be a hurricane coming now," said the youngest of the group,
looking fearfully at the sky.

"No," answered the observer, "that's nothing but a thunderstorm. You'll
never forget the look of the hurricane as it comes near, if you've seen
it once."

"Nor a tornado," put in Ross, and he told of Dan'l's death and of his
narrow escape with Anton.

"I was in the St. Louis tornado," the observer rejoined, and in turn he
told of the devastation that had struck the city in 1896.[1]

[Footnote 1: While this book was in press a most destructive series of
tornadoes visited the United States, Illinois especially suffering.
Hundreds of deaths were recorded.]

Meantime the thunderstorm was drawing closer and the thunder and the
lightning grew gradually nearer.

"Do you suppose, sir," asked Tom, "that it would be safe to send up the
kite? I've been listening to the hurricane story, and haven't taken the
weekly observation yet. Franklin sent up a kite in a storm."

"It might be safe, but I wouldn't advise it," answered the Forecaster.
"Franklin did it deliberately, for a different purpose, and it was
because of his experiment with a kite that we first found out about
lightning."

"Yes," answered Tom, who knew the story well, "and he collected sparks
from the string. But that was a silk string, Mr. Levin. I should think
this piano wire would be much worse."

"Why?" asked the Forecaster. "On the contrary, it would act as a
lightning-rod. Your kite reel is of metal and fastened to the ground.
Wire is a much better conductor of electricity than the body, so that
there's less likelihood of your being struck."

"Is it the difference between a good conductor and a bad one that makes
people put up lightning-rods?" asked Fred.

"Certainly. All that a lightning-rod does is to convey to the ground the
electricity that is about to strike a building. That's the whole system
of lightning protection. I can explain it to you fairly well by trees.
You know in fairy tales that some trees are supposed to be wicked and
other trees are supposed to be