t our group, and was gamboling about by himself among the
tubes and dials. "What will this one do?" he asked, and poked at a wet
paper disc. But before the courteous Jode could explain that it had
to do with evaporation and the dew-point, the Governor's attention
wandered, and he was blowing at a little fan-wheel. This instantly
revolved and set a number of dial hands going different ways. "Hi!" said
the Governor, delighted. "Seen 'em like that down mines. Register air
velocity in feet. Put it away, Jode. You don't want that to-morrow. What
you'll need, Hilbrun says, is a big old rain-gauge and rubber shoes."

"I shall require nothing of the sort, Governor," Jode retorted at once.
"And you can go to church without your umbrella in safety, sir. See
there." He pointed to a storm-glass, which was certainly as clear as
crystal. "An old-fashioned test, you will doubtless say, gentlemen,"
Jode continued--though none of us would have said anything like
that--"but unjustly discredited; and, furthermore, its testimony is well
corroborated, as you will find you must admit." Jode's voice was almost
threatening, and he fetched one corroborator after another. I looked
passively at wet and dry bulbs, at self-recording, dotted registers;
I caught the fleeting sound of words like "meniscus" and "terrestrial
minimum thermometer," and I nodded punctually when Jode went through
some calculation. At last I heard something that I could understand--a
series of telegraphic replies to Jode from brother signal-service
officers all over the United States. He read each one through from date
of signature, and they all made any rain to-morrow entirely impossible.
"And I tell you," Jode concluded, in his high, egg-shell voice, "there's
no chance of precipitation now, sir. I tell you, sir,"--he was shrieking
jubilantly--"there's not a damn' thing to precipitate!"

We left him in his triumph among his glass and mercury. "Gee whiz!" said
the Governor. "I guess we'd better go and tell Hilbrun it's no use."

We went, and Hilbrun smiled with a certain compassion for the antiquated
scientist. "That's what they all say," he said. "I'll do my talking
to-morrow."

"If any of you gentlemen, or your friends," said Assistant Lusk,
stepping up, "feel like doing a little business on this, I am ready to
accommodate you."

"What do yu' want this evenin'?" said Lin McLean, promptly.

"Five to one," said Lusk.

"Go yu' in twenties," said the impetuous puncher;