s he arose a moment later, a scene never to be forgotten met his gaze.
One of his horses lay motionless on the ground, the other was struggling
feebly to regain its feet, and Elizabeth was scrambling wildly out of the
wagon. Rushing to her side, Luther drew her away from the floundering
horse. A gust of rain struck them.

"Can you hold his head," Luther shouted in her ear, "while I get him out
of the harness?"

Elizabeth nodded, and together they caught the bit and laid the beast's
head flat on the ground, where the girl held it fast by main force while
Luther worked at the straps and buckles.

"At last!" he cried, when the name-strap gave way under his fingers. He
flung the neck-yoke over against the body of the dead horse, and stepped
back to free himself from the dangling lines.

Elizabeth let the horse's head loose and jumped back, still holding to the
halter-strap. The frightened animal bounded to its feet with a neigh of
alarm, dragging the girl out of Luther's reach just as a thunderous roar
and utter darkness enveloped them.

What happened, exactly, the man never knew. He picked himself up, half
senseless, some minutes later, covered with mud, and his clothing half
torn from his body. At first he could not recall where he was; then seeing
the dead horse in the road, and the upturned bed of the wagon itself, he
realized that they had been struck by a cyclone.

The darkness had whirled away with the retreating tornado, and a gray
light showed the demoralized wagon overturned by the roadside. The wagon
was in painful evidence, but Elizabeth? Where was Elizabeth? Looking
wildly about in all directions, Luther called her name:

"Lizzie! Lizzie! God in heaven! What has become of you?"

He remembered the fate of a girl in Marshall County which he had heard
discussed only last week. That child had been picked up by one of these
whirling devils and her neck broken against a tree!

With a wild cry, he turned and ran in the direction of the receding storm,
calling her name and looking frantically on both sides of the path where
the cyclone had licked the ground as clean as a swept floor. He could see
nothing at all of Elizabeth. Realizing at last that he was wasting his
efforts, and that some degree of composure would assist in the search,
Luther stopped and looked about him.

Outside the immediate path of the cyclone, which was cleared of every
movable thing, the hay was tossed and thrown about as if it had been