wm mmmmmmiamm E BOY WITH THE USiWEATHER MEN If // ^/ |WlW«MWWWMWWMMWMMMggglinilllll|lliailWf^^^^^^^ ■■ rir*f« / t^Si ^«»«!e '>:t^. V^*. M'i *■;■ . .■(,', ^'--Z ft, i* ;.'.» / / K<"-f;^; "^^^^ , yt .'H t^ V V'-'- "1 l\ <• , FRANCIS ROLT-WHEEL lllliiaiilllilluiaiiiiiiimuiaMummn^,^.,„„...„„ „„„ „.. Hate OfalUge of S^griculture Kthrarg Cornell University Library PZ 7.R66BW The boy with the U.S. weather men. 3 1924 014 519 023 The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924014519023 The Boy with the U. S. Weather Men BOOKS BY FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER ■Ql, S. Service Series Illustrations from Photographs taken for U. S. Government. Large i2mo. Cloth. Price Si.7S each. THE BOY WITH THE D. S. SURVEY THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FORESTERS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. CEHSUS THE BOY WITH THE V. S. FISHERIES THE BOY WITH THE U. S. INDIANS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. EXPLORERS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. LIFE-SAVERS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. MAIL THE BOY WITH THE TI. S. WEATHER MEM THE BOY WITH THE V. S. NATURALISTS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. TRAPPERS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. INVENTORS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SECRET SERVICE THE BOY WITH THE U. S. MIITERS /TOuseum Series Illustrations from Photographs, Large i2mo. Cloth. Price $1.75 each. THE MONSTER-HUNTERS THE POLAR HUNTERS THE AZTEC-HUNTERS THE WRECK-HUNTERS THE WONDER OF WAR IN THE AIR THE WONDER OF WAR ON LAND THE WONDER OF WAR AT SEA THE WONDER OF WAR IN THE HOLY LAND With Illustrations from unusual War Photographs and Sketches. Large i2mo. Cloth. Price $1.75 each. THE BOYS' BOOK OF THE WORLD WAR With Illustrations from Photographs and Diagrams. Large i2mo. Cloth. Price S2. 50. THE BOOK OF COWBOYS Illustrated. Large ismo. Cloth. Price $2,00 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON Courtesy of Geo. S. Bliss, U.S. Weather Bureau, Philadelphia, Pa. The Funnel of Death. Photograph of a tornado in Kansas, taken leas than a minute before it struck the point where the camera had stood. (This is one of the best tornado photographs in the world and has not been retouched.) U. S. SERVICE SERIES. THE BOY WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN BY FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER With Seventy-two Illustrations from Photographs BOSTON LOTHKOP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. Published, September, 1917 Copyright, 1917 By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. All rights resernjed The Boy with the U. S. Weather Men (2^366?(^ 'ilotwoo& press BERWICK & SMITH CO NORWOOD, MASS. U. S. A. PREFACE The savage fury of the tempest and the burn- ing splendor of the sun in all ages have stirred the human race to fear and wonder. All the great stories and legends of the world began as weather stories. The lightnings were the thunderbolts of Jove, the thunder was the rolling of celestial chariot-wheels, and the rains of spring were a god- dess weeping for her daughter, Nature, held a cap- tive in the icy prison of Winter. We know a great deal more about the forces of the Weather than the ancients did, yet we know but little still. The hurricane does not come un- heralded to our shores, the freezing grip of a cold wave is forecast in time to enable us to fight it, the lightning is tamed by the metal finger we thrust upward to the sky. But the tornado sweeps its funnel of death over our cities in spite of all we do, the cloudburst falls where it will, and rivers rush to flood with the melting of the snows upon the distant mountains. There is no battle greater than the battle with the Weather, which is both our enemy and our PREFACE ally. Death and disaster are the price we pay for ignorance. Great victories have been won by knowledge. Galveston's sea-waU dared and de- feated the hurricane, the levees of the Mississippi have held captive many a flood, and our myriad spears of defence have snatched at the power of the lightning flash and hurled it harmlessly to the ground. We are not slaves to the demons of the Weather, now — ^not as we once were. The United States Weather Bureau, day by day, draws closer and closer the chains which bind the untrammeled vio- lence of sun and storm. High, high in the atmos- phere, is a world aU unexplored, where no man can dwell; where, as yet, no human-made instru- ment has reached. This unknown world calls for explorers, it calls for adventure, it calls for dar- ing and patient work. It is for Man to tame the forces of the sky, and tame them he must and will. To show how much the Weather Bureau is accom- plishing, to depict the marvels of its work, to por- tray the ruthless ferocity of the forces as yet uncontrolled and to reveal the gripping fascina- tion of this work, in which every American boy may join, is the aim and purpose of The Authob. CONTENTS PAOS CHAPTER I Adeift on the Flooded Eivek . . 1 CHAPTER II The Home of the Rain 34 CHAPTER III Putting the Sun to Work 72 CHAPTER IV The Massaceb of an Army ,. , 105 CHAPTER V The Runaway Kite 143 CHAPTER VI Defeating the Frost 180 CHAPTER Vn Clearing an Innocent Man 210 CHAPTER VIII In the Whirl op a Tornaso ........ 255 CHAPTER IX The Trail of the Hurricane , . 280 CHAPTER X Struck by Lightning 312 ILLUSTRATIONS The Funnel of Death Frontispiece FACING PAGE There, Before the Flood, Stood Anton's House .... 30 In the Path of the Lightning 31 In the Path of the Tornado 31 WaU and Upright Sun-Dials 92 The First Line of Defence Against the Tempest ... 93 Solar Halo Seen in the United States 120 Solar Halo Seen in Russia 120 The Dust that Makes Red Sunsets 121 An Army Destroyed by Weather 138 No Peak Too Lofty for a Weather Station 139 Types of Upper Clouds 152 Types of Lower Clouds 152 Types of Rain Clouds 152 Scale of Winds, Illustrated by Clipper Ships 153 Kite-Flying — The New Way 162 Kite-Flying — The Old Way 162 The Explorer of the Upper Air 163 Snow-Flakes from the Upper Regions of the Air . . . 186 Snow-Flakes from the Middle Regions of the Air . . , 186 Snow-Flakes from the Lower Regions of the Air . . . 186 is X ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE Facing a Glimb on Snow-Shoes 187 Twenty-Five-Foot Drift a Mile Long 187 Forest Eanger in Idaho 187 Observer Among the Quaking Aspens 187 Ringing the Frost Alarm 192 Fighting Frost in an Orchard — Night 193 Fighting Frost in an Orchard — Dawn 193 Bucking a Snow-Drift 212 Clear the Way! 212 Measuring the Bhzzard's Rage 213 Signals on Delaware Breakwater 236 Signal Tower for Storm Warnings 236 Thermometers and Rain-Gauge 237 True Tornado Forming in Advance of a Dust Whirl . . 268 Tornado Dropping Towards Ground 268 Pencil Drawings of Tornado in Dakota 269 Tornado Wrecking a Farm 276 Tornado Whirling Sidewise 276 The Edge of a Tornado's Whiri 277 Shot from the Gun of a Hurricane 296 Galveston Causeway Before and After the Hurricane . . 297 Branch Lightning and Multiple Flash 316 Eiffel Tower Struck by Lightning 317 Lightning Flash Striking Building 317 The Boy with the U. S. Weather Men THE BOY WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN CHAPTER I ADKIPT ON THE FLOODED EIVEB "What is it, Hex, old boy? What are you after? Somebody else in trouble, eh I" Eoss looked down through the pouring rain at his Airedale, who was pulling at his trouser leg with sharp, determined jerks. The dog looked far more like a seal than a terrier, his hair dripping water at every point, while a cascade streamed from his tail. The boy was every whit as wet. Here and there, through the slanting lines of rain, could be seen the smoky gleams of camp- fires, around which, shivering, gathered the hun- dreds of people who had been rendered homeless by the flooded Mississippi. The lad turned to his father, who was bandaging a child's wrist, which had been broken during the work of rescue. "It looks as if I ought to go, Father," he sug- I 2 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN gested, "that's if you don't mind. By the way Eex is going on, there 's something up, for sure. ' ' "Go ahead, then, son," his father agreed, "the dog's got sense enough for a dozen. Watch out for yourself, though, and don't get foolhardy," he added warningly, as the lad disappeared in the darkness; "you've got to he right careful when the Mississippi's in flood." "I'll watch out," Eoss answered reassuringly, as he started off with the dog, and, a moment later, the glow of the camp-fire was blotted out in the falling rain. "This is your hike. Rex," announced the lad; "you lead and I'll follow." The Airedale cocked up one ear on hearing his young master's voice, then, putting his head know- ingly on one side, as if he understood every word that had been said, he trotted to the front and splashed through the pools of mud and water, his stump of a tail wagging with evident satisfaction. Eoss was used to all kinds of weather, but a downpour such as this he had never seen before. The rain feU steadily and relentlessly, with never a pause between. The night was too dark to see clearly, as the sheets of water were swept before the wind, but their force was terrific. Several ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 3 times the boy had to turn his back to the driving storm and gasp, in order to get his breath. "Where are you going, old boy?" again queried The terrier paused, shook himseK so that the drops flew in all directions, looked up in his mas- ter 's face, gave a short sharp bark and trotted on. Eoss leaned down, patted the dog, and followed. By some instinct of his own, the terrier was keep- ing to a submerged road, though how he managed to remain on it was beyond the lad's comprehen- sion, for the night was as dark as a wolf's throat and the path was under water half the time. Suddenly the dog stopped and looked back as though for guidance. Before them was a swirl of water. In the darkness it was impossible to say how deep the wash-out might be, or how wide. Eoss hesitated. His father had warned him against foolhardiness, and here he was facing the crossing of a swift current of unknown depth on a pitch-black night. Should he venture? Eex barked, a short excited "yap" of urgency. "I'll go as far as I can wade, anyhow," said Eoss in response; "maybe it isn't so deep after all. I'm not particularly anxious to have to swim." 4 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN The terrier watched his master, and as soon as the boy started to cross the wash-out in the road- bed, the dog plunged in. The current swept him down rapidly, but Kex was a powerful swimmer and the lad had little fear for him. It took all his own strength to keep him from being swept off his feet, but the break in the road was not more than six yards across, and the boy was soon safe on the other side. He whistled shrilly and a moment or two later, Eex came bounding up and jumped on his master with clumsy delight. Then, with another cock of his head, as though to make sure of himself, he took up his position in front of the lad and trotted ahead. How it rained! The water had gone down Eoss's neck and inside his shoes, so that they sloshed and gurgled with each step. Little rills of water trickled coldly down his back and legs. The wind was dropping, so that the rain drove less in slanting sheets, but it seemed to pelt down all the more heavily for that. Even in the darkness, Eoss could see the plops, where the drops fell, standing up from the surface of the flooded water like so many spiny warts. It was lonely, even with Eex for company, so dark and so wet was the night, and Eoss was glad when the glow of ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 5 a fire in the distance told him that he was ap- proaching an encampment, probably, he thought, that of another group of settlers who had been driven from their flooded houses and were shiver- ing, homeless, in the night. When he arrived near enough to take in a fuU view of the scene, however, he found it very dif- ferent from what he expected. True, there was a large camp-fire burning, such as the one he had left, and around it were gathered a number of women and children, cold, hungry and wet. A rough, lean-to tent, made of a sheet of tarpaulin, had been stretched in order to try to keep off the worst of the downpour, but no shelter availed. A few steps farther, on the river bank, was a scene of excitement and commotion. A large gasoline torch flared into the night, defying the efforts of the storm to extinguish it, and by the light of this torch, scores of men were working busily, almost crazUy, repairing a cave-in that threatened every moment to make a new break in the levee. ' ' Who 's that ? Another man ? ' ' rang out a clear, strong voice, as Koss came near, "Good! We need men badly, right now." "It's me, Mr. Levin," answered the boy 6 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN promptly, as he recognized the voice, and hurried into the circle of light, "it's me, Ross Planford." "Howdy, Boss," came the greeting in reply, "all your folks safe?" "Yes, sir," the boy answered. "It was a nar- row shave, though. Eex got us out just in time." "Good dog, that," was the terse comment. "I always did like Airedales. Well, Ross, it's time you got busy. Bring me a pile of empty bags from Dave's sugar-mill, there." "Yes, sir," answered the lad, and darted off towards the factory. Rex followed at his heels, and when, staggering back with his load, Ross dropped one of the empty bags, the terrier picked it up and came trotting after, carrying it in his teeth. "I dropped one, Mr. Levin," said the boy, "I'll go right back for it." "You don't need to," replied the Weather Fore- caster, "your pup retrieved it for you. See?" and he held up the missing bag. The engineer in charge of this section of the Mississippi, whose duty it was to guard the artifi- cial banks or "levees" of the river, was working on the main break in the levee, with a huge gang of men. In this crisis, one of the planters, who ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 7 formerly had been the local Weather Bureau of- ficial, had offered to take charge of the new threatened source of danger. At his request, Ross busied himself for some time in bringing empty bags, which were then filled up with sand and dumped into the cave-in. Being in bags, the washing action of the water could not carry away the sand, and the gradually crumbling bank again was made firm. After a while, however, Ross again felt the dog tugging at his trouser leg and he realized that the mission on which he had started had been forgotten in the excitement of mending the crack in the levee. "That's right, I was forgetting," said Ross aloud, and he appealed to his friend the Fore- caster. "Mr. Levin," he said, "can you spare me for a bit? I left Father's camp because we thought there was something wrong. Rex kept on tugging at my leg, as though he wanted to lead me some- where. He 's worrying again, now. Do you mind if I go ahead and see ? ' ' "Not a bit," was the hearty answer, "a dog doesn't generally go on like that without some reason of his own. I'll send one of the roust- abouts with you, if you like?" 8 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "No, thanks, sir," the lad answered, "if I really need help I'll come back and ask for it. Right now, I just want to find out what it is that 's bother- ing Eex." "Off with you, then," said the other, kindly, "but go easy. Oh, and Eoss!" he added, "if you're going down stream, just keep your eye on the levee, won't you? If you see any signs of trouble, get back on the double-quick. Don't try any of that story-book business about sitting down with your back to a hole in the bank. That sort of thing may be all very well in Holland but it wouldn't work with the Mississippi." Ross grinned, remembering the story. "All right, Mr. Levin," he answered, "if I see anything that looks like trouble, I'll come right back and report." For a short distance down the river, Rex led the boy along the levee, then he branched away from the river bank towards a large stretch of low-lying land. This was familiiar territory to Ross, for one of his best chums, a little crippled lad, lived in a house in the hollow. "I hope Anton got out all right!" suddenly ex- claimed Eoss, half aloud, as the thought swept ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 9 over him of the plight in which his chum might have been. This fear became more poignant when, as Kes reached the path that led up to Anton's house, he turned up it, half trotting and half splashing his way through. Eoss followed him closely, breaking into a run himself, as the dog galloped ahead. There was a slight rise of the ground, near the wood below which lay the house, and from this shallow ridge the rain ran off in muddy gul- lies that were miniature torrents. This ridge reached, Eoss looked down over the hollow toward the house. The entire plantation was a sheet of water, and, in the middle, still stood the house, the water half-way up its first story. Eex set his forelegs firmly on the ground and barked fiercely, with loud, explosive barks that rang through the storm like the successive dis- charges from a small cannon. Then, out of the rain, faintly through the dis- tance, a shout was heard. It sounded like a boy's voice. " It 's Anton ! ' ' cried Eoss. " He 's been left be- hind ! And that house is apt to go to pieces any minute ! ' ' 10 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN The first thought that sped across his mind, as he peered through the darkness to the dim out- lines of the white house, was to hurry back to the Forecaster for help. Even as this thought came to him, however, Eoss realized that such action might be of little use. Already the waters of the flood, swirling around the house, undermined it every moment, and it would take a long time to portage a boat all the way from the levee to the hollow, now in the wild sweep of the torrent. Then Ross remembered that, a couple of years before, when a wet summer had caused a con- siderable quantity of water to gather in the hollow, forming a small lake, Anton and he, together with the rest of the boys, had built a rough boat. They had played the whole story of "Treasure Island" in this craft, Anton, with his crutch, taking the part of Long John Silver. The boat was a rough p,ffair, as he remembered it, something like an p,ncient coracle, but it had been water-tight, at least. Perhaps it would be sea-worthy, still. At east, it was worth a trial. Turning his back on the building that was slanded by the flood, Eoss raced as fast as he !Ould to the little block-house on the ridge that ;he boys had built two years before, near which ADRIFT ON THE RIVER iii he hoped to find the boat. Twice he stumbled over a root in the darkness and fell headlong into the mud and water. Still, as he could not be any wetter than he was already and as he did not hurt himself, a few falls were no great matter. On the ridge, fast to the block-house, to which level the water had not yet reached, Ross found the boat. Moreover, to his great delight, he saw that Anton had been patching it up, so that it was now more serviceable than ever. It was a different matter, punting this home- made boat around the waters of a pond on a cabn summer's day, and striking out with it in a blind- ing storm across the flooding lowlands of the Mis- sissippi Eiver. Again his father's warning not to be foolhardy, came to Eoss 's remembrance, and, together with it, the Weather Bureau man's cau- tion. None the less, the boy knew well that his father would never bid him hold back from a piece of work that was dangerous or difficult when life was at stake. The boat was half full of water from the pour- ing rain. Eoss bailed it out with a cocoanut-sheU to which a handle had been affixed, evidently a home-made bailer of Anton's manufacture, and, as soon as it was clear of water, dragged it to the 12 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN border of the current and launched it. The craft floated cranMly, it was true, but it floated, and, so far as the boy could tell, it seemed fairly water- tight. Jumping out again. Boss swung himself into the water and shoved the boat along beside him. He saw the value of wading as far as possible, for he knew that, as long as his feet were on the bottom, he could govern his direction. To what extent he might be able to stem the current by the use of oars in a boat of that character, he did not know. Rex, however, was convinced that the boat had been secured expressly for him, and, as soon as Boss came near enough to the shore, the dog bounded through the shallow water in long leaps, swimming the last few feet, and put his paws on the gunwale. Eoss picked up the terrier and heaved him into the boat. Rex gave a snort of satisfaction, shook himself so that he sent a trun- dling spray of water clear in his master's face and then took his post in the bow of the boat and set himself to barking with all his might and main. It seemed almost as though he really knew that he was at the head of a rescue expedition and wanted to convey the information. When at last ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 13 Eex ceased barking, which was not for some min- utes, Eoss gave a shout. Instantly, at one of the upper windows, some- thing white appeared. In the darkness the boy could not tell what it might be, but he guessed, and rightly, that it was Anton's shirt, and he heard again, though faintly, the answering call across the river. "Keep up your nerve, Anton," he yelled, through the storm^ "I'll be over there in a min- ute." Faintly, again, came the answering cry, "Hello, Eoss! Is that you? I wondered who it was that was coming. ' ' The slow progress made by shoving the boat along, however, was not at all to Eex's liking. He turned and looked at his master doubtfully, then barked again. To his disgust, in turn, the boy found that the slope of the hollow curved away from the house a great deal. He was tempted, time after time, to jump into the boat and pull straight across, but he knew that if the force of the current drifted him below the house, he could never hope to go upstream against it. His only chance was to make sure that he could reach the middle of the torrent above the house and drift 14 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN right down upon it. A few yards' extra leeway would enable him to steer his cranky craft to the desired spot. So, though it seemed to him as if he were going away from Anton, and though, indeed, he was now so far away that the crippled boy's shouts no longer could be heard, Ross stuck to his intentions, and, stiU, wading, pushed the little craft up-stream. Eex protested vigorously. He ran back from the bow and looked into Eoss's face with a re- proachful and ahnost angry bark, as much as to say: "You silly! Can't you tell what I brought you here for?" The boy knew better than the dog. "Lie down!" he ordered sharply. Eex, understanding in a doggish way that he was in the wrong somewhere, went back to his post in the bow, where he stood dejectedly, his tail no longer at the jaunty angle than it had been before. At last Eoss felt that he had reached a point high enough up the flooded bank to justify him in the attempt to get across. He jumped into the home-made skiff, and, setting his strength to the clumsy oars, began to pull with all his might. ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 15 He had not over-estimated the force of the cur- rent. As the light craft got into the swirl, the black water caught it like a feather. Boss pulled with all his might, but the banks slipped by as though he were in tow of one of the river steam- boats. Never had the boy tugged at a pair of oars as he did now, and never had he so wished for a good boat and for real oars. He was only two- thirds of the distance across to the house when it came into sight, only a little distance below him. He would not reach it! With the energy of despair, Eoss tugged on his oars, every muscle of his body tense with the strain. Eex, divining the struggle, stood silent, not look- ing forward over the bow as he had been doing, but watching his master as he toiled with his oars. Then, out from the darkness, shot the long black menace of a floating tree trunk. Straight for the boat it sped. From the window, now close at hand, came a cry: ' ' Look out, Eoss ! Look out ! ' ' Eoss saw the danger. He knew, if he backed water, or halted long enough to let the tree go i6 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN by, he would infallibly be swept past the house and all hope of rescuing Anton would be gone. He saw, too, that if the tree struck the frail boat, it would sink it as a battleship's ram sinks a fishing-boat in a fog at sea. He might win through, but if it struck — The oars creaked with the sudden strain thrown on them. On came the tree, but, just as it was about to strike the boat, it checked and turned half over, as the projecting stump of a broken bough caught on the ground below. For an instant, only, the tree halted and began to swing. The halt gave a moment's respite, one more chance for an extra pull with the oars. The big log, thus poised, made a backwater eddy on the surface of the river, checking the force of the current. Eoss reached back for another stroke, with every ounce of his muscle behind it. The tree turned over sullenly and charged down the river anew. Yet that brief pause, that second of delay, that back-water ripple as the log hung in suspension, had given Eoss just the advantage that was needed. The branches of the upper part of the tree swept round, one of them catching the stern of the boat and almost pulling it under. ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 17 Peril had been near, but victory was nearer. The bow of the boat touched the wall of the house. The current, swirling around the rocking walls, carried the boat to the lee of the house, and, as it spun round, Eoss leaped on to the porch, chest- deep in water, and took a quick turn with the boat's painter around the corner post of the porch. The torrent took his feet from under him, and swept him down-stream, floating, but Eoss held a firm grip on the rope and dragged himself back. There, clasping the post tightly, he got back his breath. After a moment's groping he found the railing of the porch. By standing on this and holding fast to the corner post, he was, for the moment, out of danger. He had reached the house, but how was Anton to be rescued? The crippled boy was on the second story and the upper window could not be reached from the boat, even if the boat could have been held in place directly under it. Fortunately, Eoss knew the arrangements of his chum's house as well as he did those of his own. Stepping gingerly along the porch railing, he came close to the window of the sitting room. The glass was still in the window frame, but as the front cc or was swinging i8 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN wide open, though partly choked with debris, Eoss knew that the sitting room must be full of water. He kicked the glass out and then, with a heavier kick, broke away the middle part of the window- sash. The water did not come quite to the top of the window frame, sure evidence that there was room for air between the water and the ceiling. Taking a long breath, but with his heart knock- ing against his ribs, Koss dived through the broken window. It is one thing to be able to swim and dive, it is another to plunge through a splintered window-frame into a dark house in the middle of the night, with a flood roaring on all sides. Was the door into the hall open? On that, suc- cess depended. The boy turned sharply to the left as he came up to the surface and took breath. His hand struck the top of the door jamb. The door was open, but the casing was only three inches above the water. Eoss dived again through the door, and, under water, turned to the right. One swim- ming stroke brought him to the staircase and he rushed up the few steps at the top to the room above. There, by the light of a single candle, he saw ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 19 Anton, his eager eyes shining out of his pale face. The crippled boy hobbled across the room on his crutch and grasped his chum tightly by the shoul- der. He was trembling like an aspen-leaf in the wind. "Scared, Anton?" said Eoss. "I'm not sur- prised. You've a good right to be." "I wasn't so scared," the younger lad replied, with the characteristic desire of a boy not to be thought cowardly, "I just got to wondering, that was all." "Wondering if any one was going to come for you?" "Yes." "How did you get left behind, anyhow?" que- ried Eoss. "Oh, it was my own fault, all right," the crippled lad replied. "It was all because of the dog. You know, Eoss, Lassie had pups, last Mon- day." "No, I didn't know about it," responded the older boy. "Why didn't you tell a feUow?" "I haven't seen you since," Anton explained. "Well, when the levee broke and the water com- menced to come into the house, Dad and Uncle Jack went and got the two boats we always keep 20 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN on the river. Dad picked me up and carried me down on to the porch. I heard him call to Uncle Jack: " 'You go ahead and get Clara; I've got Anton safe with me.' " "Then you were with him, weren't you?" queried Eoss. "Sure I was. Just as I was getting into the boat, though, I thought of Lassie and her puppies and I went back to get them. I called to Dad and said: " 'I'm just going to fetch Lassie, Dad, and I'll go in Uncle Jack's boat.' "So, Dad, he called to Uncle, saying that I was to go with him. His boat was pretty well crowded up, too. Back I went to get Lassie. As soon as I'd picked up the pups. Lassie was willing enough to come along. The water was running over the floor and made it slippery. My crutch slithered on the wet wood and I tumbled down. It was pretty dark, and I had a job finding the four pup- pies again. When I did gather 'em up and started for the porch again. Uncle Jack was gone." "Without you?" "He thought I was with Dad, and I suppose Dad was sure I was with Uncle Jack." ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 21 "They ought to have found out and come back after you as soon as they got together." "I thought of that," the crippled lad answered, "and that's what I expected would happen. I suppose, though, they didn't land at the same place, and so each bunch thinks I'm with the other and isn't doing any worrying." "It's a mighty awkward mix-up," declared Eoss. "There's no saying what might have hap- pened to you if Eex hadn't been on the job." "Was it Rex who brought you here?" "It sure was," Eoss replied, and he described how the terrier had pulled him by the leg and insisted on his coming over to the house in the hollow. "Where's Eex now," queried Anton, "down in our old boat?" "Yes, he's down there, keeping watch, good old scout, ' ' answered Eoss. ' ' He ought to be satisfied now, he certainly made fuss enough to bring me here. But, look here, Anton, how are we going to get you out? You don't swim." "No," answered his chum mournfully, "I can't swim." "If there was room enough down that stair," said Eoss, thoughtfully, "I could take you on my 22 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN back, but we'd never get through that door, and the window would be even worse." "I'd been thinking of that," Anton answered. "I wondered how Dad would get me when he found out that I wasn't with Uncle Jack and came for me. So I made a long rope out of strips of my sheets." "What's the good of that?" "Well," said the younger boy, "I was wonder- ing if I couldn't get out of the window. My arms are awful strong, you know. Boss." "Yes," the other agreed, "you've plenty of muscle there." "I thought if I could drop that line out of the window, Dad could grab it and hold the boat there. Then I could chuck down Lassie and the pups in a basket — ^I've got the basket — and slide down the rope of sheets into the boat." Boss thought for a minute. "I don't see why we couldn't do that now," he said. "Suppose we tied a piece of wood to the end of this rope of sheets, so that it would float, the current would curl it around the corner of the house so that I could get hold of it from the boat. If your end of the line was made fast up here, I could hand over hand the boat right under your ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 23 window, the way you say. Why, I could get you out without any trouble at all! Let's see how it goes." Suiting the action to the word, Eoss tied one end of the line of sheets around the hinge of the door, passed it through the window, and, to the other end, tied a spare crutch. Then he leaned out of the window and watched it. The current snatched the crutch down and, as Eoss expected, swung it around the corner of the house. "Fine," said the lad. "We can work that all right. I'll have you out of here in two shakes, Anton. Where are the pups?" Anton pointed to the bed, on which a basket was lying. "Aren't they dandies?" he said. Eoss took the candle over and picked up one of the pups. Lassie growled in a low voice. "All right, Lassie," said Eoss, "you ought to know me." He bent down and patted her. The dog smelt his hand and whacked her tail on the floor in token of recognition, but growled again, nevertheless. "I won't hurt your pup," declared Eoss, put- ting the blind little creature back in the basket. Missing Page Missing Page 26 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN Then a brilliant idea struck him. Suppose he tied the painter of the boat under his arms, loosed the boat from the post and jumped into the water. He ought to reach the floating line before the cur- rent had taken up the slack of the boat's painter. If he left loose a long enough end, with a loop knot, he could fasten the rope from the boat to the line of sheets, and the boat would be made fast. The loop knot would unfasten itself and he could easily clamber into the boat, from the stern, since it was fastened to the line coming out from An- ton's window. Then he could haul up the boat, hand over hand, as agreed upon, take Anton and the puppies aboard and strike out straight for the shore. No sooner was the idea conceived than Eoss proceeded to put it into action. Slipping the line around his arms, once, he tied a loop knot in front of his chest, where it would be easy to reach, leaving about three feet of rope hanging, untied the painter and shoved off the boat. The instant that the boat felt the current it yawed around, but, at the same moment, Eoss jumped out and forward with all his might. The action sent the boat down-stream all the quicker, but in a second's time, Eoss had grasped the floating crutch and had ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 27 taken a turn with the loose end of the rope around it. He was not an instant too soon, for a sharp tug at his chest, followed by a sudden release of the weight, told him that the loop knot had untied itself, as he hoped it would. Holding on to the sheet line with one hand, he rapidly passed the rope once under and through. Eoss had not learned his knots from the Mississippi sailors for nothing, and as the boat came to the end of its tether and jerked on the line, the boy had the satisfaction of seeing the k'^ot tighten. With the strain off, it was easy to take another half -hitch around the line, and the knot was secure beyond peradventure. He climbed aboard, raised a cheery cry to Anton, and commenced to pull the boat hand over hand along the line of sheets. It was only a moment before the little craft was bobbing on the flood, immediately beneath the window. "Let's have the puppies first," cried Eoss. Anton's head disappeared from the window, and reappeared in a moment. * ' Catch ! " he cried and held out the basket. Eoss balanced himself as best he could and caught the falling basket. It was not more than 28 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN a five feet drop and the basket landed squarely in his arms. He placed it in the boat. Loud bark- ing overhead announced that Lassie was dis- pleased and worried over the sudden departure of her offspring. "How am I going to get Lassie out!" queried Anton. "I'd never thought of that. She'll strangle if I let her down by the collar." "That's easy," Boss called back. "Tie a bit of string to her collar, chuck me the end of the string, and then throw her into the water. It won't hurt her, and I ef,n easily haul her aboard." "All right, then," the other answered, "get the boat out of the way." "Chuck me down the end of the string first," warned Boss, and, as he spoke, a ball of stout twine fell in the boat. "Out with her now," he continued, slackening away on the line, so that the boat was no longer directly out of the window. There was a moment's pause and then the big dog appeared in the opening, struggling in An- ton's strong, if clumsy, grasp. She clawed at the window-sill, not understanding what was happen- ing, but Anton gave her a push, and half turning as she fell. Lassie struck the water all of a heap. The instant she was afloat, however, her natural ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 29 swimming instincts asserted themselves and she started for the shore. * ' Here, Lassie ! ' ' called Eoss, with a whistle, and pulled gently on the string that was fastened to her collar. The dog felt the pull and turned around, swimming directly for the boat. Eoss stooped down and lifted her in. The mother im- mediately smelt the puppies and scrambled along the bottom of the boat to the basket. She smelt her children, nosed them over, one by one, then, satisfied that everything was all right, muzzled against Eex, and lay down contentedly. This feat accomplished, Eoss pulled the boat under the window again. "Now, Anton," he called, "it's your turn." "All right," the younger lad replied, "I'm coming. ' ' Eoss heard him drag a chair to the window, to make it easier for him to clamber out. Just at that instant, there came a cracking from the front of the house, the corner-post of the porch, to which the boat had been fastened less than five minutes before, fell with a crash and the front of the house crumbled. There was a moment's pause, and then the whole structure keeled over, away from the boat, and with a rend- 30 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN ing and cracking of timbers, broke from its foun- dation. Over and over it heeled, and it looked as though it would go to pieces. From the window- overhead came a scream of terror. Eealizing that Anton could never save himself, if the house were collapsing, Eoss leaped for the rope of linen that was hanging out of the window and went up it like a monkey. The chair on which Anton had climbed, to get out of the window, had slid to the far end of the room and fallen on the sloping floor, the lower edge of which was now in the water, and the crippled lad was pinned down' and unable to get out. The candle had been thrown down on the table and fire was beginning to lick some paper that had not slipped to the floor. Eoss dashed in, grabbed Anton by the arm, picked him up with the "firemen's carry" and staggered up the sloping floor to the window. Had the boat suffered in the careening of the house ? The line, made of linen sheets, still was taut, and Eoss, peering out of the window, saw to his great delight that the boat was still there with all its passengers safe, Eex, Lassie, and the pup- pies. Courtesy of U. S. Weather Bureau. In the Path of the Lightning. Courtesy of T. B, Jennings, U. S. Weather Bureau, Topeka, Kans. In the Path of the Tornado. A farm-house, with farm buildings in a copse of trees stood here ; the huggy, after a flight through the air, was dropped, little injured. ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 31 A lurch almost threw Eoss upon his face and the whole house swayed as though with a violent earthquake. The next instant, a sense of motion beneath them told the boys that the house was afloat. "The house has gone, the house has gone! What are we going to do?" cried the crippled boy. "That's all right, Anton," the older lad said consolingly, "things aren't so bad. See, it's be- ginning to get daylight." "But," said the younger boy, "the house is floating down to Pirate's Cave, that gully wher^ the big rocks are. If we run up against those, the house '11 be smashed to bits, sure." Boss thought for a moment and saw that his chum was right. "Guess we'll have to take to the boat after all, Anton," he said, "it's a good thing the house got on a level keel again, when she came afloat. ' ' Action was needed and that immediately. Eoss climbed half-way through the window. "I've got to get that boat up here in a hurry," he said, "the current's swift enough, when you're in that small boat, but this house doesn't float down so fast. It's a mile, anjrw^ay, to the gully." 32 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN So saying, he swung himself out of the window, went down the linen rope and dropped into the water. Hand over hand, again, up the rope came the boat until once more it was under the window. Meanwhile, by heroic exertions, Anton had swung himself up on the window-sill. As the boat came beneath him, the crippled lad swung out on the rope and proceeded to climb down into the boat. He was not a moment too soon. While Eoss had been bringing the boat to place, the speed of the current had increased and. the house, like a clumsy Noah's Ark, began to sweep swiftly to- wards the gully of which Anton had spoken. "Qiiick, Anton," said Eoss, as the smaller lad hesitated, "we've got to be quick." He cut the boat loose. In spite of his blunt words, it was with the greatest gentleness that Eoss handed the lad to a seat in the rough craft where they had played pirates during the preceding summer, and settled down to his oars. Lassie, finding her master safe in the boat, came and laid her head on his knee, while the shore went slipping by. Here and there a barn still stood, the tops of the trees showed above the flood, but all the ground was hidden and the torrent was ADRIFT ON THE RIVER 33 running like a mill-race. Little by little, Eoss edged the boat towards the shore, not trying to stem the current but rowing diagonally across it. Only a few hundred yards separated the house from the gorge which the boys knew as Pirates Cave. By this time the boat had reached the higher portion of the hollow, where the current slackened. A few strong strokes of the oars and the boat grounded, safely. At that instant the slight lightening of the rain- filled skies showed that,, behind the clouds, the sun had risen. The boys turned to look at the house which had been Anton's refuge, and which so nearly had been his tomb. As they looked, the structure struck against the uppermost of the rocks with a crash and collapsed as though made of matchwood, while, a second after, into the med- ley of boards and timbers some uprooted trees came crashing. "You wouldn't have stood much chance there, Anton," said Eoss. The crippled lad put his hand on the older boy's shoulder, with as close an approach to a gesture of affection as boy nature would permit. "I guess I'd have been a goner," he answered, "but for you." CHAPTER n THE HOME OP THE EAIN The gray morning broke over the desolate scene, and Anton, hollow-eyed and exhausted, looked at the mnddy waters rushing savagely over the place where his home had stood. By the tops of the trees, only, was he able to trace the outline of the fields he had known all his boyhood. "Do you suppose it'll ever dry up, Boss?" he asked. "Of course it will, Anton," the older lad said, reassuringly, "you'll see. In a week or two all this water '11 run off and you'll forgfet that the old place ever looked like this." The crippled lad shook his head, as though in doubt. "My books have gone," he said mournfully. The tones were quiet, but a tragedy lay beneath the words, and no one knew better than Ross how largely his chum's life lay in the world revealed in his tiny library. The flood would pass away and the fertility of summer would hide every trace 34 THE HOME OF THE RAIN 35 of the disaster, but for Anton's loss there was no such swift remedy. His books were his closest friends, and now, at one stroke, he was bereft of all of them. "Come," said Eoss, to change the current of his chum's thoughts, "we'll have to make a start. Where do you suppose your folks are?" The younger lad turned to his friend with the quick responsiveness and willing resignation often found among those who have suffered a great deal or who are handicapped in Life's race. "I haven't the least idea," he said, "they might have gone over to the other shore." "Yes," agreed Eoss, thoughtfully, "that's likely. They'd certainly have more chance of finding help and grub over there. And, talking of grub, Anton, aren't you hungry?" "Starving," admitted the younger lad. "Then I tell you what, we'd better go and hunt up Levin." "The chap who used to be with the Weather Bureau, you mean?" Anton asked. "Yes." "Don't you think that I ought to try to find Father first?" queried the younger lad, hesitat- ingly. "He might be worrying." 36 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN ''It's because of your folks that I think we ought to go first to the camp," explained Boss. "We couldn't possibly row right across the flood to the other shore. "We've had trouble enough get- ting as far as this. Besides, Anton, even if we did get over, we wouldn't know where to look for your people. There's a chance that Levin may have heard from them, and if he hasn't, he might send some one with a message. We couldn't do much searching, anyway." In truth, the boys were utterly exhausted. The only member of the party who seemed in high spirits was Eex. He frisked about and jumped on the two boys, his tail sticking straight up in the air, as though he were convinced that it was solely through his exertions that Lassie and the puppies had been rescued. Eoss slung the basket, with its living freight, across his shoulders and started off. Lassie watched this elevation of her children with mani- fest uneasiness, but as her master seemed satisfied, there was nothing for her to do but to follow behind, which she did with her nose as close to the basket as possible. Nerve-frazzled and tired out, Anton pegged away behind. The heavy downpour of rain, which THE HOME OF THE RAIN 37 had not ceased for a day and a night, and which had followed upon the heavy rains of the week before, had made the ground as soft as a bog. The crippled lad's crutch sank in so deeply at every step that it was only with great pain that he could keep up at all. Still, he struggled along bravely. Ross, turning to see how his chum was faring, caught the boy's tense and haggard look, and understood. "Look here, Anton," he said, at once, "we'll never get anywhere this way. You get into the boat and I'll tow you." "But you can't, you're just about all in," pro- tested the younger boy. "You can't tow the boat with me in it, all the way. ' ' "Got to!" declared Ross abruptly. "It's a sure thing that you're not able to walk there with the ground in this sodden condition. Anyway, I won't have to carry the puppies." Thankful but still protesting, Anton got into the boat and the journey began anew. It was a weary way. Ross staggered forward, half-blind with sleep, wading knee-deep, some- times waist-deep, in the water. The rain had stopped, but the sky was heavy and the clouds 38 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN hung low. Twice Anton had to jerk on the tow- rope to jolt Ross awake, for, unnoticing, he was heading for deep water. Even near the shore the torrent was full of floating debris. The bodies of horses and cattle drifting down the stream told of many impoverished farms and the flotsam was eloquent of wrecked and demolished houses and indicative of suffering. When, after an hour's toil, rescuer and rescued reached the drier land that sloped up to the levee, it was hard to tell which was the more exhausted. To the last, however, Eoss refused to let his chum bear the burden of the puppies, and he lurched up the road to the place where he had left the gang at work on the cave-in, not so many hours before. It seemed weeks ago. The Weather Man was still at work. He had been up all night, also, but he greeted the lad cheerily as he came in sight. "Hello, Ross!" he called, then, as the boy's exhausted state became more evident, "what have you been doing? Has anything happened?" "Anton was marooned," answered Ross in the duU, listless voice of extreme fatigue. "Marooned? You mean he was caught by the flood?" THE HOME OF THE RAIN 39 As though in answer, Anton, toiling heavily and wearily on his crutch, came in sight. "Yes," said Eoss, in the same tone, "he :was left hehind." "How was that?" the Weather Man asked sharply. "It wasn't anybody's fault, Mr. Levin," replied Anton, who had heard the last two sentences as he came up, "Father thought I'd gone with Uncle Jack, and Uncle Jack thought I'd gone with Father." "You're not hurt?" "No, sir," the crippled lad answered, "not a bit. Eoss is, though. He cut his arm diving through the window." The Forecaster turned swiftly to the older boy and began examining the injury. "Is the house still standing?" he asked. "No, sir," the boy answered, "it's aU in bits down by Jackson's Gully." The weather expert nodded. He knew the lay of the land and had expected the water from the flooded hollow to pour down towards the entrance to the gully. "How did you get out, then?" he asked. Anton burst into a glowing account of his rescue 40 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN in the little boat which the boys had made for their pirate adventures of two years before. Even the excitement of the story, however, was not strong enough to keep his overtaxed frame from showing signs of a breakdown and the Weather Man cut the story short. "I'm going to breakfast later," he said curtly, "but not for a couple of hours. Tou two had bet- ter take a rest now. Here, Sam," he called to one of the negroes, "bring me a bucket of coffee from your camp-kettle, and fetch some corn-pone. Quick now, these boys are famished." "Yas, suh! Yas, suh!" came the reply, and, a moment later, a bucket of coffee and some corn- bread and molasses were brought. Despite their hunger, neither Boss nor Anton could eat more than a few mouthfuls, and the hot drink was the last straw to their sleepiness. Eoss fell asleep with an unfinished piece of corn-pone in his hand, and Anton's head was nodding. "Ain' no more weight than a babby. Mister Levin," said the laborer, as he picked up the little crippled lad and carried him to a tiny open shed near by, which was the only dry spot to be found in the neighborhood. Very tenderly he laid the boy down on a pile THE HOME OF THE RAIN 41 of clothes that had been salvaged while the Fore- caster put his overcoat over Eoss and laid him beside his chum. "There," said the Weather Man, "let them sleep a while. They'll be ready for a real break- fast in a couple of hours." Though hungry himself, the Forecaster waited for three hours before awakening the lads. An- ton, by nature a light sleeper, awoke easily and was refreshed, but the awakening of Eoss was a real task. He had been on a severe strain for twenty-seven hours and Nature demanded sleep. At last, however, he was roused and after he had plunged his head in a pail of cold water, he felt as full of ginger as ever and ready to start on rescue work all over again. "I'm just going to breakfast," the Forecaster announced. "Do you want to go along?" "Do I? I should say I did! But I'm afraid, sir, that Anton and I wiU eat up everything in sight." "You don't need to worry about that," the Forecaster replied, "my men have been hauling supplies all night. Why, Eoss, there are over two thousand people homeless this morning, right around this district. They've all got to eat break- 42 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN fast, too, so you see even your best efforts won't seriously decrease the supply." "I'm not so sure about that, sir," Eoss said laughing, "right now I feel as though I could eaf all you've gathered for the entire two thousand." "Come and try, then," the Weather Man said, smiling. Then, turning to Anton, he continued, "Likely enough, some of your people will be at the big tent that's been put up. If they're not there, I'll send out a couple of the boys on horseback to cover both sides of the flooded area and pass the word that you're safe." He turned to the older boy. "I've already sent word to your father, Eoss. " The boys thanked him and started down the levee. Owing to the continuous work of the night, the cave-in had gradually been filled up, averting a break at this point. The river, turbid and swollen, was swirling by, not more than three feet below the top of the levee. "Is the water going down yet, Mr. Levin?" asked Eoss. "It looks as though the rain were over." "Yes," answered the Forecaster, "the rain is over, but the water's not going down yet. It's rising. I'm fairly sure that there won't be any THE HOME OF THE RAIN 43 more rain for a few days, fortunately, but I heard from Greenville this morning that the river was still rising. We can stand another nine or ten inches, but a foot would be serious. Of course, the break that flooded out Jackson's Hol- low, where your place was, Anton, is relieving the pressure a little. We've been lucky here. I haven't heard of any loss of life so far. It's a nasty flood, but when the rainfall last week was reported as being so heavy, I knew we couldn't escape trouble." "Is it just the rain that makes floods?" Anton asked. "Just rain," was the laconic answer. "Why is it," asked the younger boy, "that there's more rain one year than another?" "If I could tell you that," the old Weather Forecaster replied, "I'd be the cleverest meteor- ologist in the world." "But doesn't anybody know why it rains?" "Certainly, we know why it rains." "Why, Mr. Levin?" The Forecaster pushed back his hat from his forehead and looked quizzically at the white-faced lad. "You really want to know why rain comes? 44 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN Very well, Anton, I'll try to tell you. Stop me, though, if you don't quite understand. "The Earth goes whirling about in space, re- volving around the Sun, as you know, and it has, like a sort of skin around it, an envelope of air. This air is kept from flying off by the force of gravity. You know what that ^s?" "Yes, sir," the cripple answered, "it's what makes a stone fall to the ground." "Exactly. Now the air is made up of little particles or molecules, like the stone, only, of course, not so heavy. They're heavy enough, though. How much weight of air do you suppose you're carrying, Anton?" The boy looked puzzled. "I don't quite see what you mean, sir," he an- swered. "Suppose you had a pea on your head, it wouldn't be heavy to carry, would it?" "Why, no," answered the lad, laughing. "Supposing you had a basket of peas, the bas- ket being only about as big round as your head, but six feet high, that would make quite a load, wouldn't it?" "I don't believe I could carry it," was the an- swer. THE HOME OF THE RAIN 45 "And if the basket were sixty feet high, as high as a barn?" "I'd be squashed under it." "And if it were six miles high?" "Why," answered Anton, "a basket six miles high, even if you filled it up with cotton fluff, would weigh tons and tons!" "Well, my boy," said the Weather Forecaster, "you're carrying on the top of your head a col- umn of air, not only six, but sixty miles high, yes, and more than that! You don't notice it, of course, because you're used to it, and your body is made to accommodate itself to that weight by your tissues being full of air at the same pressure. Just the same, not counting the weight which presses on your whole body, amounting to about seventeen tons, you're carrying on your head, at this minute, a weight of over six hundred pounds. " "Six hundred pounds! As much as if I were carrying three heavy men sitting on my head?" "Every bit of it, and more, under certain con- ditions of the atmosphere. This depends mainly on the circulation of the winds, especially those great movements a thousand miles in diameter known as 'lows' and 'highs' or cyclones and anti- cyclones. In the United States, an anti-cyclone 46 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN generally means fair weather, and in an anti- cyclone the barometric column rises. That's why a barometer helps to foretell weather some time in advance ; it responds to the vast movements of the atmosphere rather than to local conditions. "Of course, Anton, at sixty miles up, the air is so thin that it has hardly any weight. Indeed, we wouldn't know there was any air at that height but for the trail that shooting stars leave. A meteor glows because of friction, and in a vacuum there is no friction. Therefore there must be air at the vast heights where shooting stars are first seen." "Could an aeroplane get up there?" The Forecaster shook his head. "Never," he answered. "Even six miles up, the air would be too thin to sustain the weight of an aeroplane unless the machine were flying at terrific velocity, and besides, at that height, there wouldn't be enough air for an aviator to breathe. At that, Anton, you can see for yourself that if the air is saturated with water vapor — and the cloud-bearing atmosphere is eight or ten miles thick — there is room for a lot of water." "It's evaporation that puts water into the air, isn't it, sir?" asked Eoss. THE HOME OF THE RAIN 47 "Exactly. The sun is shining on some part of the earth all the time. There's never a second, day or night, that water is not being evaporated from the seas, from lakes, from rivers and from the earth itself. All the water that is taken up must fall somewhere, and all the rain that falls means that the atmosphere must fill itself with water vapor again. It's a continuous perform- ance, and the water which is being evaporated into the air falls to the earth, sooner or later, as rain, hail, or snow." "If it's all so regular," said Anton thought- fully, "I don't see why we don't get the same amount of rain every day, or at least every sea- son." "It isn't regular at all," the "Weather Fore- caster explained. "If climatic conditions were regular, we could forecast the weather several years in advance, instead of only a few days. There are a thousand complicating factors. Land and sea are irregularly divided, and as there is more evaporation from the sea than the land, every little curve in a coast line means a disturb- ance of regularity. Then, Anton, remember, while the earth is almost a globe it is not perfectly round, so that every variation from the regular 48 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN curve disturbs the air currents. Moreover, the motions of the earth are very complicated. Sometimes it is nearer the sun than at other times. It wobbles slightly on its axis. It is inclined to the plane of the ecliptic, causing the seasons, and that brings a new set of factors into the problem. A mountain range or a desert will modify the at- mosphere, even the difference between a forest and a prairie is noticeable. ' ' "Suppose you could figure all those things out, couldn't you foretell the weather, then?" The Forecaster shook his head. "Suppose you had a thousand marbles of dif- ferent colors," he said, "and you dropped them from the top of a house to the hard ground below, a rough and rocky piece of ground, could you ever figure out what kind of a pattern they would make? You might measure the size of the mar- bles and compute how many times they would strike against each other in falling, meantime fig- uring the angles of direction that each collision would produce. You might measure the resist- ance of the ground and the elasticity of the mar- bles and estimate the manner in which they would bounce after striking the ground and the distance to which they would roll. After you had done all THE HOME OF THE RAIN 49 that, you might have the right to expect that you would know the pattern that the marbles would make as they lay scattered on the ground. But you would be wrong, for if you dropped those mar- bles a thousand, yes, a million times, the pattern would be different each time. After tens of bil- lions of experiments you might be able to find the proportion of patterns, but the result would never be of practical use. "It's the same way with the weather. We know well enough how to do the things that would enable us to prophesy a long time in advance what the weather is going to be, but the problem ap- proaches impossibility because there are too many factors that enter into the calculation. We're learning all the time, but it's a big piece of work and needs big men to do it. That's why, Anton, I can't tell you why this particular district had more rain this year than it has had for several seasons past." Anton, pegging away on his crutch beside the Forecaster, looked up at him with an added eager- ness in his eyes. "And yet all those things are going on, right where I can see them ! " he exclaimed. "Yes," the Weather Man answered. "Some 50 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN men can explore distant countries, and we envy them ; some men can explore the greatest and the smallest things in the world with marvellous sci- entific instruments and we envy them, too; but every day and all day, and every night and aU night, we are surrounded by the World of the Weather, less explored, less known than even the most remote corner of the earth. Why, Anton, if you could simply follow all the various causes that brought about this flood that made you home- less, you would have a story of adventure that would make the most daring explorer green with envy." "But you do predict floods and rains, Mr. Levin," Ross put in. "Father told me, a week ago, that warnings for this flood had been sent out by the Weather Bureau." "Yes, indeed," the Weather Man answered. "I should say that weather warnings issued by the Bureau save half a billion dollars to the country every year and prevent the loss of hundreds of lives. All those are short-range predictions. Very few of them cover much more than a week in advance, except, perhaps, a West Indian Hurri- cane which has been reported from the Antilles, or a flood on the Mississippi which is caused by THE HOME OF THE RAIN 51 heavy rains in the upper reaches of the streams flowing into it. ' ' "Well, that's prophesying, isn't it?" "Yes, and no," was the reply. "It's predict- ing, and it's due to observation. If a storm is moving eastward, with a heavy rainfall, and we 've had telegraphic dispatches from all the towns in the west through which it has passed, it's not hard to figure the speed at which the storm is traveling, and it's a sure prediction to tell a city to the eastward of that storm that rain can be expected at about a certain date. Or, if there's a high flood wave at St. Louis, and we know the speed of the Mississippi current, we can notify Greenville, Vicksburg, and New Orleans at what time the trouble is likely to come to them. If no more rain is falling at Greenville and the river is going down there, we can notify Vicksburg that the flood dan- ger is passing away. That's the observational end of the work, and in that line, the Weather Bureau of the United States is the best in the world." The weather expert was proceeding to explain in detail the manner of collecting these observa- tions, when suddenly Anton clutched him by the arm. 52 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "What's that, Mr. Levin?" he cried. The Forecaster looked ahead, then glanced down at the boy with a smile. "What does it look like?" he asked. "Why," said Anton, "it looks like a circus tent; you know, the one that was here the week before last." "It is the circus tent," the Forecaster replied. "When I found that there were a couple of thou- sand people to be fed and looked after, the only shelter I could think of, that was big enough, was the circus tent. So, late last night, I sent a wagon up there, asking for the loan of the tent for a day or two. And what do you suppose the circus folk did?" "Sent it?" "They sent it, with two of their wagons, a lot of food, their cooking kit, and the two cooks who travel with the circus. What's more, Anton, you remember those two clowns in the show who were so funny?" "You bet I do!" exclaimed the lad, his eyes shining. "They volunteered to come down and help as waiters. They're doing it, too, and it's a right good thing, for every one around in the place is THE HOME OF THE RAIN 53 roaring with laughter half the time. Folks work a lot better when they're cheerful." A perfect gale of merriment, which greeted the boys as they neared the tent, showed the truth of the Forecaster's statement. He had greatly un- derstated the work of the circus. Nearly all the performers were there, busily helping the dis- tressed. "They're a right kindly folk, the circus people, as a rule," remarked the Forecaster. "Are they all here?" queried Anton. "Goli- ath, the strong man, the Flying Squirrel Brothers, Androcles, the lion tamer. Princess Tiny and the rest?" "Yes, most of them," the Forecaster answered, "Goliath is in charge of one of the gangs I've got at work on the river front, and the darkies are so proud of being under him that they're work- ing like fury. The Flying Squirrel Brothers — cracker-jack mechanics, both of them — ^have been fixing up some tackle and machinery that we needed, but I think Androcles stayed back with his lions. I suppose he thought the lions wouldn't do us any good. But if you're not too hungry to wait just for a second — " He paused. 54 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "What?" queried Anton excitedly. "Yes, there they are!" the Forecaster an- swered, gazing along the levee. Both boys followed his glance. Vast, bulky shadows stood outlined against the distant Arkansas shore and the clearing sky. Unreal they seemed, until it was evident that they were moving. There, shuffling along with that heavy rolling gait which is unlike that of any other animal in the world, came two colossal elephants. Anton shrieked with delight. ' ' Elephants ! Eeal elephants ! " he cried. * ' Oh, Mr. Levin, I haven't ever seen an elephant quite close." He started off up the levee, but the Forecaster called him back. "Have your breakfast first, Anton," he said; "you've got all day to look at the elephants. They're the best workers I've got. I'd like to have a gang of them at work on the levee all the time." This sentiment was not shared by Eex. At the first sight of the huge creatures. Lassie had given a low growl. Eex stood silent, with a stillness that Eoss knew to be ominous, and just as the THE HOME OF THE RAIN 55 Forecaster finished speaking, with an- angry growl, he started off to do battle against the elephants. It was a sight to see him, with his hair bristling, rushing forward to dispute the passage of these huge brutes who dared to approach the vicinity of Lassie and the puppies. Only the sharp com- mands of Eoss availed to bring him back, and throughout breakfast he lay well in advance of the tent, watching, and growling loudly every time the elephants passed, dragging the flat sleds loaded with sand bags to the cave-in a few hundred yards beyond. "I've been wondering," began Anton, using the expression most often on his lips, "why there are so many floods on the Mississippi. Why is it? Lots of rivers I know don't have these awful floods every year." "I've wondered, too," said Eoss. The "Weather Man looked at the two boys, then took a cigar out of his pocket. "I can't stay away from the levee very long," he said, "but I need a cigar after breakfast, any- way, and I'll tell you why the Mississippi is one of the worst flood rivers in the world and why the safeguarding of the- Mississippi is the biggest piece of work to be done in the United States. 56 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN It's a bigger piece of work than tlie Panama Canal, and a more difBcult piece of work. It means millions of dollars every year to the people of the United States." "Why is it such a hard job?" "The Mississippi Eiver," the Forecaster be- gan, *'is two and a half thousand miles in length; the longest river in the world." "Longer than the Amazon?" asked Anton. "Yes, a great deal. Besides, it is navigable for nearly two thousand miles, clear from St. Paul, Minnesota, to the Gulf. It drains two-fifths of the area of the United States. To put it another way, all the rain and snow that falls between New York State and Montana sooner or later makes its way into the Mississippi Eiver, except for the rain that is used up by plants and animals or that is evaporated before it reaches the river or that drains by underground seepage to the ocean. So you see what a vast amount of water it must carry. Now, boys," he continued, "what kind of banks has the river around here, rock or earth?" "Mud!" answered Ross, tersely. "Eight," the Forecaster agreed, "and it is mud nearly all the way along. But do you know what mud is?" THE HOME OF THE RAIN 57 This was rather a poser, but finally Anton said slowly, "It's a mixture of earth and water, isn't it?" The Forecaster looked shrewdly at the boy. "You've hit it just right," he said, "mud is earth or soil that has been washed down by the river. That 's what makes the bottom of the river so irregular and why it's always shifting. You can see for yourselves, boys, that if the bottom of the Mississippi is just made of light mud, light enough to be carried doAvn as muddy water for hundreds of miles, any little change in the current of the river will stir up that mud again and scoop out a hole. If it happens to be near a bank, the bank will be eaten away and, naturally, will cave right in." "About how much mud does the Mississippi carry down, Mr. Levin?" Anton asked. "In flood time, as much as a thousand tons a minute will be carried past here." Eoss whistled. "A thousand tons a minute!" he exclaimed. "Why, I should think that would fill up the river in no time. ' ' "It would," the Weather Man answered, "if the river stood still. In flood time, however, the 58 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN water is flowing rapidly and takes the mud clear down to the delta. That 's why there is always so much new land being made at the mouth of the river. You could buy a piece of land under water now, Eoss, if you wanted, and be quite sure that in twenty years' time there would be land there for a farm." "But a thousand tons a minute!" the boy re- peated, "that seems huge!" "It is pretty big," the Forecaster agreed, "but I'll show you where it comes from. You know, boys, generally the land slopes down in the direc- tion of the river, doesn't it?" "Yes," assented the two boys, "it's supposed to. But it doesn't here. The lie of the land is away from the river." "That's just exactly the point," the Forecaster declared. ' ' The banks of the Mississippi range in height from about twenty to forty feet above ex- treme low water. As the river, in times of flood, rises as high as forty to fifty feet above low water, unless there were levees, the river would overflow its banks every spring or flood time." "It does, quite often, even yet," commented Boss, looking on the flooded scene around him. "Well," said the Weather Man, "the present THE HOME OF THE RAIN 59 levee system only dates back to the end of the Civil War, although there were levees built during the first settlement of New Orleans, two centuries ago. Eemember, though, that the Mississippi has been flowing down its present bed for several hun- dred thousand years, with a flood every spring, so that the overflow has had its effect. Of course, before the land was broken up by farming, there wasn't as much earth carried down into the river to make mud as there is now. "When the Mississippi Eiver, with its heavy sediment, overflows the banks into the swamps, it's easy to see that the current will be slower in the flooded area than in the main bed of the river. ' ' "Of course," agreed Koss, "but what has that got to do with it?" "A great deal," the Forecaster replied suc- cinctly, "The faster a river flows, the more sedi- ment it can carry without allowing it to drop to the bottom; the slower it flows, the more readily is the sediment dropped. If you put some mud in a glass of water and keep stirring it with a spoon, the mud will never sink to the bottom. Even if you let it stand perfectly still, it will take several days before the finest particles sink to the bottom of the glass and the water becomes clear. ' ' 6o WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "Yes," agreed Anton, "I've often wondered why." "Well," the "Weather Man continued, "if you look closely at the mud in the bottom of the glass, you'll see that the bigger particles are at the bot- tom and then those a little smaller and so on up, imtil your top layer is made of a mud composed of particles so fine that you'd have to get a micro- scope to see them." "I don't quite see why," said Eoss. "I know bigger things are heavier, but why should a big bit of earth sink more quickly than a small bit, when they're both made of just exactly the same stuff?" The Weather Man looked at him. "Some of these days," he said, "remind me to talk to you about sunlight and dust, and I'll tell you a heap of things you don't know. Eight now, get this idea in your head. The larger a piece of matter is, the smaller is the surface in proportion to the bulk. A feather of swan's down will float in a high wind, but if you roll that feather into a ball, it will fall. Why? You haven't made it any heavier. You've only reduced the amount of sur- face which was borne up by the air. It's the same way with mud, the bigger pieces sink first because THE HOME OF THE RAIN 6i they have less surface in proportion to their weight. ' ' "Yes," answered Eoss, "I can see that now." "Very good, then," the Forecaster continued, "when the Mississippi overflowed its banks and the water got out of the current of the main stream, so that it flowed more gently, the sediment began to fall, the larger pieces first and those that were finer untU it was only at the most distant point from the river that the finest mud settled. This has gone on, year after year, for thousands of years. "Therefore, you see, the lands nearest the river are higher than those farther away. In two big basins, the St. Francis and the Yazoo basins, the slope and the drainage is away from the river, instead of towards it. ' ' "In that case, then," said Anton thoughtfully, "the Mississippi runs in a groove on the top of a hill." "That's it exactly," the Forecaster said, "and some of the most fertile fields lie in the lowlands made of the fine mud at the bottom of this hill. It's just like that hollow where your house was, Anton. The flood hasn't done much damage south of here because all the waters poured down into 62 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN that fine plantation land where your place was located." "What I don't see," said Boss, "is why the Government doesn't build a really high levee all the way along the river. I don't mean just a few feet higher, but a regular wall 'way higher than the river ever goes. I mean a regular stone wall, twice as high as any levee that we've got now. I should think that would make the river behave." * * It would and it wouldn 't, ' ' replied the Weather Man. ' ' What are you going to build that wall on I On the ground?" "I suppose so," said Ross. "I hadn't thought much about that." "Indeed you hadn't," his friend replied. "You've got to remember, Eoss, that the Missis- sippi doesn't run in a straight line; it bends and twists like a snake. In the bends the current strikes on the outwardly curving bank, and, as you know, the water is always deep there. This causes a rapid caving and erosion of the bank. At the foot of each bend, the main flow crosses to the other side, where it strikes the bank which has become concave there, and eats into that bank just as, a few hundred yards higher, it has been eating into the opposite one." THE HOME OF THE RAIN 63 "I know you've always got to pilot a boat first one one side of the river and then on the other," said Eoss thoughtfully. "You have. And, if you remember, you'll see that it is generally on the side nearest to the con- cave shore that the boats pass." "Yes," agreed Eoss thoughtfully, "I guess it is." "Now, you can easily see," the Forecaster con- tinued, "that the river might keep its own channel clean if it flowed straight down with a current of equal strength. But, as the current crosses from side to side, it slackens speed at each of these crossings. Therefore, as the current becomes slower, it drops some of the heavier particles of sand or mud, forming a bar at every bend, some- times so high as to prevent navigation." "That's what the dredges are for, isn't it?" asked Eoss. "Yes. The Government has twelve large dredges at work all the time, keeping the navi- gation channel open." "I don't see, yet, why the stone wall idea wouldn't work," protested Eoss. "I'm just showing you," was the reply. "If you built your heavy wall on the bank, the water 64 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN would strike the concave bank at one of these crossings, eat away the earth under the wall and your wall would topple in. Then the current would cross the stream, undermine the bank on the other side and your masonry would crumble there, too. So much for the wall. ' ' "Suppose you sunk that wall, away down deep, below the level of the bottom of the river?" sug- gested Ross. "That might work," the expert replied, "but it would cost more money than the United States could afford to spend. Besides, Eoss, where would you build this wall? Eight on the bank?" "Of course." "But the Mississippi is half a mUe wide at some places and three miles wide at others. If the river were absolutely walled in, you'd have swift cur- rents at one place and slow in another. Then your channel would fill up in the wide places and you'd be as badly off as before." " Make it all the same width, then," said Eoss. "Build two-thirds of the whole two thousand miles by some underwater system, constructing the wall under water? If you had ever read of the difiBculty of building one lighthouse founda- tion, my boy, you wouldn't talk so glibly about THE HOME OF THE RAIN 65 building huge retaining masses of masonry under water. ' ' "Suppose it were done, that way, Mr. Levin," put in Anton, "would that settle it all?" "You mean — suppose there was a high masonry wall, making a canal equal in width and height from St. Louis to the Gulf, would that turn the Mississippi into a permanent ship channel? Is that what you mean?" "Yes." "No, it wouldn't," the expert replied. "What are you going to do with all the little streams that flow into the Mississippi? Think for a minute, boys. You can see that wherever you narrow the banks, the river channel has got to be made deeper to accommodate the water, hasn't it?" "Yes," both boys agreed, "it has." "In other words, suppose that before you put up this huge masonry wall, the flood crest was fifty feet at Memphis, then, after the wall was built, the flood crest would be seventy-five or a hundred. ' ' "Suppose it were," said Ross, "the wall would hold it in." "So you think. There are the tributaries to consider. Take the Yazoo, for example. It flows 66 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN into the main river until the Mississippi reaches the fifty-foot flood level. If you raise the flood level of the Mississippi to seventy-five feet, the water in the main river will be twenty-five feet higher than the water which used to run into it at the fifty-foot level, won't it?" Eoss whistled. "I see where you're coming to," he said; "I'd never have thought of that. Go ahead, Mr. Levin." "With the water in the main stream twenty-five feet higher than in the tributary, due to your re- taining wall, boy, instead of the water in the Yazoo Eiver flowing into the Mississippi, all the water above the fifty-foot level in the Mississippi would flow into the Yazoo. The Yazoo couldn't hold the water, and as the stream backed up, it would overflow its banks. AU the low valleys would be flooded in exactly the same way that they were before, only, instead of the floods coming directly through a break in the levee or over the banks of the Mississippi, they would come over the banks of the Yazoo. That would be true of every small river that flows into the Mississippi, and there are scores of them." "What can be done, Mr. Levin?" THE HOME OF THE RAIN 67 "There's only one thing to do," the Weather Man answered, "and that's to build up the levee system, year after year, steadily and without pause, making allowances for the tributaries flow- ing into the Mississippi and paying especial heed to the rainfall that may be expected in the basin. Wherever possible, forestry must be undertaken to keep the slopes from erosion. Eeservoirs might be built with great profit, from which water could be let down during the low water periods. "When the river channels are accurately ad- justed to the amount of rainfall in the river basin, destructive floods will be averted. We can never expect that the Mississippi will be absolutely put in harness. The basin is too huge, the amount of water that has to be carried down is too great. Permanent dredging and permanent levee con- struction and repair will always be necessary, and a close co-ordination between the Weather Bureau and the government and state engineers is a first need in the problem." "Just how does the Weather Bureau come in," asked Eoss, "the rainfall?" "It isn't only the rainfall of the few days in advance," the Forecaster answered, "it's the rain that has fallen before and the rain that 's going to 68 WITH THE U.S. WEATHER MEN fall. If there should be twelve inches of rainfall after a long drought throughout the Mississippi basin, it would make comparatively little differ- ence, for all the raiu that fell on the dry ground would be sucked up by it and only a very little would flow into the rivers and streams that feed the Mississippi. "On the other hand, if there had been slight but frequent rains for weeks and weeks, those twelve inches of water would make an entirely different story. No one, except the Weather Bureau, would have kept track of the amount of rain that had fallen. "If the ground has been steadily soaked, even by light occasional showers, twelve inches more of rain cannot soak in. Therefore, the entire amount of rain wUl flow directly into the stream channels and thus into the Mississippi. Flood warnings will be sent out, the height of the flood crest can be estimated, the length of the period of the danger will be known in advance and the proper preparations can be made. If further rain is threatened, that information can be sent out, also, and the entire Mississippi valley is com- pletely prepared. That's the true preparedness, my boy, being ready for the foe that you know will THE HOME OF THE RAIN 69 come. Stupidity or cowardice are the only causes for not being williag and ready t^ help in time of danger." "What can a chap do?" asked Boss, aflame with eagerness. The Forecaster looked at him thoughtfully, but before he answered, Anton piped in, with a plain- tive note in his voice : "Is there anything that I could do?" In spite of himself, the Forecaster's glance fell on the crutch. Anton's intent gaze followed the look and he flushed. A sudden silence fell, the silence of an abiding tragedy from which all eyes are always turned, the tragedy of the disabled. "Yes," he said with grave quietness, "there's a great deal that you can do." The crippled lad regarded him steadily. The steady rushing of the Mississippi in flood could be heard near by with its thousand miles af menace. "We need work," the weather expert said, at last, "work with the heart behind it. Even now, the United States Weather Bureau has over four thousand co-operative observers, who work with- out pay, who work with their hearts behind their duties. Still, this is all too few." 70 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN Anton's gaze never wavered, but a question crept into his eyes. "Yes," answered the Forecaster, "you can be one. I know your father well, and I'm sure that he will be guaranty for the instruments. The work of making and recording observations will be yours. Never late, never forgetting, never swerving from your duty, your post at the rain- gauge and the barometer wiU be as honorable and responsible a post as the soldier's at sentry-post or behind the gun. ' ' The lad's eyes glowed more deeply. "Storms, frosts, and droughts will be your ene- mies," the Forecaster continued, "and they never sleep and never give quarter. The lighthouse- keeper who lets his light go out and permits a ship to go unwarned to wreck upon the rocks is not more guilty than the Weather Observer who al- lows disaster to sweep, unwarned, upon his dis- trict. It is a trust, Anton. Can you and will you take it?" The sun broke through the clouds, lighting up the yellow wood of the crutch and turning it into gold. It caught the boy's eye, but with a new significance. No longer would it stand between him and his future. There was something he THE HOME OF THE RAIN 71 could do for Ms country, as well as though he were the strongest and best-built lad in all the neighbor- hood. Life, with its promises of work, opened before him. "I'll take the trust," he answered simply. CHAPTER III PtmiNG THE SUN TO WOBK "Fo' the land's sake, Mistah Anton, what fo' yo ' puttin' up that pole on the grass ? ' ' "So that I can find the sun, Dan'l," the crippled lad answered cheerily, as he held upright the pole, while Ross began to fill in the deep hole that the two boys had spent the morning in making. "Yo' don't need no pole to find the sun," the old darky answered; "why, yonder 's the sun, right up over yo' head." "Is it right over my head, Dan'l?" the boy asked. The negro, an old family servant, put his hand above his eyes and squinted at the sky. "Not right over," he corrected himself, "but mighty near it." "How near?" Dan'l looked at the boy with a puzzled air. "Ah don't jest know how near," he answered. "That's the idea, exactly," Anton rejoined, "T want to know how near." 72 PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 73 "Is this hyar another of your contraptions to teU what the weather's goin' to be like the year after next?" the plantation hand queried, taking advantage of his position as an old family appa- nage. The instruments had been a point of dis- cussion all summer, for Dan'l prided himself on being a weather prophet, though he based most of his predictions on the behavior of the animals and birds around the farm. "This is to teU time, not weather, Dan'l," An- ton answered, "but we'll use it for weather, too." The darky shook his head. "Ah don't hold with none o' them glass things with silver runnin' up an' down in their insides, what you calls 'f ermometers, " he declared, "they're not nateral. Ah believe in signs. "When, in the evenin', a rooster crows like he's^ done goin' to bust, ah knows sho' it's goin' to rain befo' mornin'," He ambled up to Ross, who was busily shovel- ling in the earth. "Hyar, Mist' Ross," he said, "let me do that for yo'. Yo' ought to ask old Dan'l when yo' got a job like that." "That's all right," the older boy answered, readily yielding up the spade, however, and wip- 74 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN ing the perspiration from his brow, "it is pretty hot, though." "Yo' got no call to be worMn' right near noon," the negro protested, "that's not fo' white folks. Fust thing yo' know, yo'll be havin' a sunstroke." He shoveled vigorously as he talked, tamping the earth down hard. "It's sho' goia' to be a hot summer," he said, "yo' only find the field-mouse nests where the shadder's thickest. Thar," he continued, patting down the earth level with his spade, "that's done now. Yas, suh, it's hot." He wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. "You bet the sun's hot," the boy agreed, "but Mr. Levin told me the other day that we only get a two-bUlionth part of the heat put out by the sun. Did you know that, Eoss ? The sun has heat enough to warm two billion Earths as big as this one. Even at that, Dan'l, the amount of heat we get from the sun would make thirty-seven billion tons of freezing water boil in one minute." The negro's jaw dropped. "Yo' not fooling?" he said. "Not a bit." PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 75 "Ah's hot," he said. "Ah's goin' to boil, soon." "Cheer up, Dan'l. You'll cool off tonight," suggested the older lad. "Nearly everything that takes in heat has to give it out again. The earth, the sea and the dust in the air, all gradually let out some of the heat during the night. If it wasn't for that, everything would stay at the same temperature all night long. That's why it's always colder an hour before dawn than an hour after sunset. "See, Dan'l, the earth and the air which take in heat easily and give off heat easily, by the end of the night, have got rid of a lot of their heat. At sea, though, where the water lets go its heat less easily, it is never as cold as on land. The thermometer shows when it's hot and when it's cold." "Ah don't hold with none 0' them fermom- eters," the old darky repeated. "That's because you don't understand them," the crippled lad replied. "It's dead easy, though. You see, Dan'l, when a thing is hot it gets bigger and when it's cold it gets smaller, that is, most things do." "Ah don't see that, nohow," the negro an- 76 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN swered. * 'A red hot stove is just 'zackly the same size as when the fire's out." "No, it isn't, as a matter of fact," the lad re- plied, "but you can't always see the difference. Iron does get bigger as it gets hot. You've seen the steel rails on railroad tracks, haven't you, Dan'l." "Sho'." "Did you ever notice that there's a little crack between each rail? In winter, the crack is quite wide." The negro thought for a moment. "Is that the crack that makes a train bump?" "Yes, that's it. Now, Dan'l, on a hot day in summer, you can't see any crack there at all, the rail has expanded or got bigger, and filled it up. On a frosty day in winter, there's a big crack, so big that you could drop a lead pencil between the ends of the rails. That's the difference of ex- pansion on a steel rail between winter and sum- mer." "That's powehful little!" "It's quite a good deal. I'll show you. Sup- pose, Dan'l, you had a small rubber ball filled with ink and there was a pipe out of the ball sticking straight up in the air, and suppose you put that PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 77 little rubber ball in the crack between the rails. ' ' "Yes?" "Then, on a cold day, the rubber ball would have room enough. It wouldn't be squeezed and aU the ink would stay in it. On a hot day, as the end of rails came together, they would squeeze the ball and the ink would squirt up. As there wouldn't be anywhere for it to go except through the tube, it would shoot up the tube, wouldn't it?" "Sho'." "So that you could tell, by the height of the ink in the tube, how much the rails had come closer together, or expanded. As the only thing that would make them expand would be the heat, you could measure the heat that way, couldn't you?" "Ah reckon yo' could." "That's what a thermometer does, Dan'l. The little bulb at the bottom contains something that 's easily swelled by the heat. In a hot climate, quicksilver is used, because it doesn't boil except at a heat much greater than the air ever gets, though it freezes easily; in a cold climate, they use alcohol because it doesn't freeze except at a degree of cold much colder than the atmosphere ever gets, though it boils easily." 78 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "Yo' fermometer's got blood in it!" "No, the alcohol is colored, so that you can see it easily, Dan'l, that's all. The quicksilver, or the alcohol, is put into a little bulb and up from this bulb there runs a tube. That tube is awfully thin, sometimes a hundred times thinner than a hair. When a tube is as thin as that, even a tiny amount of expansion or contraction will make the quicksilver run up the tube or down. If you watch that thermometer I've got in that white shelter over there, Dan'l, you can easily tell when its hotter and colder. It's nearly always hotter around noon." "It's sho' mighty near noon now," Dan'l de- clared. "How do you know?" "Ah can tell that fo' sho', yas, suhl" "How, Dan'l?" "By mah own fermometer, Mist' Ross, an' that's mah inside. Eight about five minutes befo' noon, thar's a little knock that says 'Tap, tap,' Dan'l, yo're hungry.' An' that knockin's always right, Mistah Eoss. Ah sho' is hungry right at that hyar time." "It hasn't knocked yet, Dan'l, has it?" The darky looked thoughtful. PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 79 "Ah hasn't felt it," he answered, "but Ah's got a feelin' that Ah can expect it now 'most any minute." "Well," the younger lad answered, watching the black shadow of the pole as it stretched along the ground almost to his feet, "we'll find out how near right your inside is." He took a piece of steel tape from his pocket and handed it to his chum. "How long is it, Eoss?" he asked. He bent down eagerly and watched the measuring of the shadow. "Four feet, six inches," the older lad an- nounced. The negro looked at the shadow a moment and then burst into a hearty laugh. "What is it, Dan'l?" "Why, Mistah Eoss, it ain't no use for yo' to measure that! Yo' done forgot that a shadder don't stay still." "Why not?" "A shadder keeps movin' round. Yo' ought to have thought o' that," he added seriously. "We thought of it, all right, Dan'l," Anton an- swered. "See, the line of the shadow's already on one side of the tape. Try it again, Eoss!" 8o WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "Four feet, five inches and three quarters," came the reply. "What fo' makes that shorter?" queried the negro. "Dan'l," said the younger boy, reprovingly, "why don't you use that thick head of yours a little? When you get up in the morning, isn't your shadow longer than it is in the middle of the day?" "Sho', it stretches away off yonder!" "And in the evening?" "Jest as far." "And around noon-time?" "It's right short." "Then," said the crippled lad, "don't you see that if we measure where the morning shadow stops growing shorter and the afternoon shadow begins growing longer, that'll be the middle of the day?" The darky slapped the side of his leg with a resounding smack. "Who'd have thought o' that, now?" he said. "It sho' does look like you was right." Ross bent down and measured the shadow. "I think we'd better put in a peg to mark it," he said, looking up; "it doesn't seem to be chang- PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 8i ing so much. I can only make it five and five- eighths, now." Anton stuck a sharpened peg in the ground and took out the little silver watch that had been given him on his birthday. "It's not nearly twelve o'clock by my watch yet," he said. "That's standard time," Eoss reminded him; "don't forget that we're not right on the line of standard time here, Anton. That's New Orleans time you've got, not sun time." "Is thar more'n one kind of time?" the darky asked. "Ain't time, jest time, all over?" "I should say not !" declared both boys at once, "it's never the same true time at any two places in the world." "That is," corrected Eoss, "unless they happen to be due north and south." "Yo' makin' a joke of me, Mistah Anton," de- clared Dan'l. "Not a bit of it," replied Anton. "I'll show you just why. The sun rises in the east, doesn't it?" "Sho'." "So, if you walked a long way east, you'd see the sun quicker, wouldn't you?" 82 WITH THE U.S. WEATHER MEN "Ah s'pose Ah would," the darky responded hesitatingly. "And your watch would show that the sun rose earlier." "ShoM" "So noon would come sooner, too. And if you walked west, it would he longer before the sun rose and noon would be later, that is, figured by your watch." "Ah declah Ah never thought o' that!" "So, you see, every place has a different time." "But," the darky protested, "it's the same time when Ah goes to Vicksburg." "Certainly," the lad answered, "and if you went away to Texas it would seem the same, but it really wouldn't be. The clocks change four times in the United States, don't they. Boss?" ' * Yes, four times, ' ' the older lad agreed. * ' East of a line running through Buffalo, Wheeling, Asheville and Atlanta, time is called 'Eastern Time.' Everything west of that line is really an hour later, so the clock has to be put back an hour. If a train comes from the east into the station at "Wheeling, at ten o'clock in the morning, and only stays in the depot five minutes, the time- table shows that it left at five minutes past nine." PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 83 "What-all happens to that yar hour?" asked Dan'l. "It's just lost," Eoss declared. "That stand- ard of time, which is called ' Central Time,' reaches clear across to the middle of the Dakotas, and the eastern boundaries of Colorado, and New Mexico. There you lose another hour, 'Mountain Time' extending as far as the ridge of the Eockies. From there to the Pacific coast, it's called 'Pacific Time' and is another hour later. "You see, Dan'V" he continued, "when it's noon in Washington and New York, it's eleven o'clock in Chicago, St. Louis and New Orleans; ten o'clock in Butte, Cheyenne and Denver; and nine o'clock in Spokane, San Francisco and Los Angeles." ''Who-all fixed it up that way?" "The railways," Eoss answered, "hut the vari- ous states have O.K.ed it. You've got to ar- range the setting of time in some definite way for the handling of railroads and telegraphs and things of that sort. It seems funny, Dan'l, but if you send a telegram here to a friend in San Francisco, he'll get it, according to his watch, nearly two hours before you sent it." Eoss stooped down as he spoke, and again meas- 84 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN ured the shadow of the pole, as it lay stretched out like a black line across the grass. "It's just the same!" he cried. "It's noon now!" Anton promptly set his watch right by the sun. "There's Mr. Levin coming," he announced, "let's show him that his watch is wrong. He's always so exact." The boys came up to him, but before they could put their question, the Weather Man spoke. "Well, boys," he said, "what are you after? Putting up a flag-pole? It's a little short, isn't it?" "No, Mr. Levin," Anton answered, "that isn't a flag-pole, it's a new clock, and one that's always right!" "How have you been making it?" the Fore- caster asked, immediately interested. Anton described the principles that the boys had used and especially the means adopted to ensure that the pole should be upright. "Why don't you fix it so that you won't have to measure the length of the shadow every day?" queried the Forecaster. "It's quite easy when you know how." "Won't you show us?" responded Anton. PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 85 "Certainly," the old Weather Man answered, getting out of his buggy. "I see," he continued, "you've got hold of the idea that when the sun casts the shortest shadow it must be true noon, because the sun is half-way between the longest shadow and the shortest. That means, of course, that the sun is at the meridian." "Yes, sir." "It would be much the same thing, wouldn't it, if you measured half the distance between the points on the horizon where the sun rose and the sun set?" Eoss thought for a moment. "Yes," he said, "I suppose it would. But is that always the same?" "How can it be anything else?" the Forecaster asked. "In winter the day is short and in sum- mer it is long, but the meridian plane is always the same — that is, excepting for certain very small astronomical variations which would make no difference to you in the matter of measuring time. Let's get the meridian plane, first. Dan'l, do you suppose there's a pail of whitewash in the barn?" "Yas, suh," the darky replied, "Ah knows there 86 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "Go ahead and get it then," the observer asked, "and let me have a piece of string." He fastened the string to the bottom of the pole and awaited the return of Dan'l with the white- wash. In a moment the old negro came back with the pail. "Now," said the Forecaster, "I'm going to hold this string right at the end, and, holding it tightly, walk around the pole. "What kind of a figure will that make?" "A circle," answered the two boys. "Eight. Dan'l, you take the brush and white- wash a narrow line right behind my hand as I move the string round." Dan'l stooped down and rapidly painted in the circle, as the Forecaster moved the string. "Next," said the "Weather Man, "we'U make another circle, a little closer in." "At any special distance, sir?" asked Anton. "No," was the reply. "It doesn't matter. Any distance at all wiU do." A second, and again a third circle was thus made. "Tie a piece of rope around the pole," was the next direction, "as high as you can reach." This only took a minute. PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 87 "Now, boys," the Forecaster said, "all that you have to do is to watch when the shadow of the rope crosses those three circles. Put in a peg this evening when it crosses the inside one, then the middle and then the outside. To-morrow morning, mark with pegs the place where the shadow crosses the same circles on the other side, only, of course, it will cross the outer one first." "Then what shaU we do, sir?" asked Anton. "Have you a long straight board?" he asked in reply. "Plenty of them," the younger lad answered. ' ' Good. Well then, to-morrow morning lay that board so that its edge touches the two points where the shadow of the rope on the pole crossed the outer circle and let Dan'l whitewash a straight line joining the two points. Do the same with the second and with the inside circles. ' ' "Yes?" queried the lad eagerly, "and then?" "You'll have three parallel lines," the Fore- caster said, "the outer one longer and the next two shorter. Bisect those lines. Do you know how to do that?" The younger lad shook his head. "Only by measuring with a bit of string and doubling the string," he said. 88 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN The Forecaster took a pencil and an envelope out of his pocket. "It's quite simple," he explained. "Fasten a string to the peg at one end of the line you want to divide in half. Stretch the string along the line till you come to the end of this line. Then make a circle. Do the same thing from the other end of the line. That wiU give you two circles crossing one another. With the board, draw a straight line joining the points where the circles cross. "To be exact, bisect the line on the middle and on the inner circles in the same way. You'll find they all come out the same. The bisecting line, reaching from the pole, and crossing the bi- sected lines is called the plane of the meridian. If I were you, I'd make that line a permanent mark by pressing into the ground a row of stones, or those white clay marbles. Then the rain can destroy the other whitewash lines, without doing any harm, because you've got what you were after." "But how is that going to show the time?" queried Eoss. "Because," said the Forecaster with a smile, "whenever the shadow of the pole lies along the PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 89 line of white marbles, which marks the meridian plane, it is exactly twelve o'clock by sun time." "Without any measuring as to length?" "Without any measuring at all." "That pin't no clock, Mistah Levin," the darky announced in a superior way. "Ah don't hold with no clock like that." "Why not, Dan'l?" "Ah gets hungry other times besides noon," he said. "Ah'd only eat once a day by that clock. No, suh. Ah wants a clock that tells every hour 0' the day, not jest noon-time. "Ah got another clock that don't never need no mending, not in summer-time," continued Dan'l. "My marigolds open at seven sharp every mornin' an' wink their eyes at me an' say 'Dan'l, yo're hungry,' and Ah sho' is. An' jest before six o'clock in the evenin', the white moon-flowers say, 'Dan'l, time fo' supper and yo' little white bed.' An' dey's right, too. Don't need no sun- clocks." "I'm like Dan'l," put in Anton, "I'd like to be able to tell every hour, not just twelve o'clock only!" "Well," the Forecaster answered cheerfully, Missing Page Missing Page 92 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "All kinds were used," the other answered, "I rememher one that read 'Pass On'; another 'Do not linger'; but the one I like best is the old Latin one which ran 'I count only the bright hours.' I suppose you've heard the story of the American sun-dial motto ? " . "No, sir," said both boys together. "You knew that the sun-dial is one of the of- ficial emblems of the United States?" "I never heard of it," Ross exclaimed. "It is. It was used on some of the earliest American coins. Last century, ia London, one of the courts of justice, known as the Inner Tem- ple, gave an order to a sun-dial maker to put up a dial. He asked for a motto, and was told to come the next day for it. Next day it was not ready, nor the day after. Still the dial-maker persisted. At last, one day, in making his re- quest, he interrupted an important meeting, and the chairman turned to him quite impatiently and said: " 'Sirrah! Begone about your business!' " 'A very good motto,' said the dial-maker, not realizing that the command was meant personally for him, and he engraved the words on the dial. "When the lawyers of the Inner Temple saw the PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 93 motto, they agreed that nothing could be better, though it had never been intended. "When our first coinage was discussed, Ben- jamin Franklin was on the committee and he sug- gested that a sun-dial should be used. As, how- ever, the coinage would go to the people instead of the people going to the sun-dial, he suggested the old motto with a change. This motto read: " 'Mind Your Business!' " "That's good, too," exclaimed Anton. "Very good. So that phrase was engraved on the American coinage, and on some money that was issued by the State of New York, over a cen- tury ago. You could use whichever motto you liked best." "I'll use the American one!" declared Anton enthusiastically. "I've a lot of those marbles. I'm going right off now to see if I haven't enough." He shifted his crutch to a more comfortable position under his arms and pegged across the yard to the house as hard as he could go. "I've noticed," said the Forecaster, as he looked after the limping boy, "that Anton seems a lot happier since the flood. He used to be such a mournful little fellow." 94 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "It's this weather work you started him on," the boy answered. "It means a lot to him." "Ross," said the Weather expert, "I've been thinking a good deal about Anton and about all the rest of you boys in this neighborhood. Issa- quena county is over ninety per cent colored and there aren't very many of you white boys, but the dozen or so that are here seem to me to be mighty good American stuff." "They're a dandy lot," Ross agreed. "Have any of you boys thought at all about what's going to happen to Anton, when he grows up? His father hasn't money enough to send him to college, or anything like that, especially since he lost so much by the flood, and, being a cripple, Anton's not going to have much of a chance on the plantation." "I hadn't thought of it," Eoss answered, "but it does seem as if he were up against it, doesn't it?" "Why don't you boys make it easy for him?" "How, Mr. Levin? We would in a minute, any of us. Everybody likes Anton." "Look here," said the Weather Man, putting his hand on Ross's shoulder, "I know from ex- perience that when you suggest something worth PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 95 doing to a bunch of American boys, they're mighty apt to go ahead with it. Now, as you said your- self, Anton seems to have a real interest in these weather observations. His father tells me he's never two minutes late in taking them. Making this sun-dial is another example of the same thing. What I'm thinking is this — ^why couldn't Anton be taken in hand and taught to fit himself for the Weather Bureau? I'll teach him mathematics as my share, but you boys will have to do your bit." "What could we do?" "Suppose — of course, without letting Anton know why you're doing it — suppose you boys got together and took up this weather plan as a sort of outdoor club. You could meet here at Anton's place. If all his chums were interested and hav- ing a natural earnestness, I'm sure he'd work like fury at it. It would give him a real chance, and, what's more, I believe you chaps would like doing it." "Make a Weather Bureau of our own, Mr. Levin ? I think it would be great ! ' ' "I think myself that you'd get a lot of fun out of it," said the Forecaster, "but the real idea is that you'd be helping Anton, yes, helping him 96 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN more even than when you rescued him from the drifting house during the flood, because you'd be giving him a start in life. It's a piece of work that's worth the doing, Eoss." "It's a bully scheme, sir," agreed the boy, wav- ing his hand to another lad who was coming up the road. "I'm game to do all I can." "You'll have a good deal to do," the Weather Man warned him. ' ' I know you 're practically the leader of the neighborhood and the boys follow you. I've spoken to a few of the fellows and asked them to meet me here this afternoon, but I wanted to see you first. I've just come from your house and they said you were over here. It's got to be a boys' deal, through and through." Eoss thought for a moment. "You said, sir, we oughtn't to let Anton know. I think, perhaps, we ought to keep it dark. But I'd like to talk to Bob Portlett about it, if you don't mind. He doesn't talk much, but the chaps put a lot of stock in what he says. Bob and I are pretty thick, you know." "Of course, talk things over with him. I spoke to him about it yesterday. You two go into ex- ecutive session, while I go up to the house a min- ute." PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 97 He nodded to Bob and strode off across the yard. "Levin been talking to you about Anton, Bob?" Boss asked, as soon as the Forecaster was out of hearing. " Yes, " answered Bob, in his abrupt way. ' * He said you knew all about it." "He only sprung it on me just a few minutes ago," Boss rejoined, "but I think it's a dandy idea," and he proceeded to relate to his friend the outline of the plan. When he had finished. Bob nodded his head. "Count me in," he said, "I'll do anything for Anton." "What '11 you do?" "Wireless," was the brief reply. "What's that got to do with weather?" "A lot. I got my new big sending apparatus yesterday and I've got a transmitting license." "Have you?" said Ross in surprise. "I thought they were so awfully hard to get. Don't you have to pass an examination, or something?" "Yes. I passed it. I've still got the small ap- paratus I used to have, the one you know. I'll give that to Anton, teach him to work it. He can send me his observations and I'll transmit. I've 98 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN a lot of amateur stations on my string. How's that?" "Fine!" declared Boss enthusiastically, "it would keep the observations up to scratch if the chaps knew they were going to be used. Who else do you think would join in?" One by one the two lads discussed the other boys in the neighborhood. Meanwhile, many of them had arrived and were clustering around Mr. Levin and Anton, asking innumerable ques- tions about the new sun-dial. Dan'l was giving out information freely, and one of the puppies had taken exception to the whitewash line and was barking at it with high puppy-toned barks. Pres- ently Eoss caught the Forecaster's eye, and came over and joined the group. "I've just been telling the fellows, Eoss," said the Weather Man, speaking as though the lad knew nothing about it, "that we've a good chance in this county to give a hand to the Weather Bureau. I'm out of the work, now, of course, but my heart's in it yet, and I'd like to see Issaquena County put on the map. We haven't got an ob- server's station in the entire county. Weather's the most important thing in the world and we've only just begun to learn how wonderful it is. PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 99 "Every one of you boys has seen what it means when the Mississippi gets in flood, and most of you could guess what would have happened last spring if the Weather Bureau hadn't given any warnings. As it was, nobody was drowned, all the way down the river. In the Johnstown Flood, just because it was a case in which no warning could be given, over two thousand people were killed. "Think of it, boys, if we could get together and map out the weather in every square mile of this county, we could make this district the best kept and most famous meteorological centre in the world! "I know, sometimes, it seems as if we were a good deal out of things, here. There's not a town of any size in the county, one day's a good deal like another, and we're apt to think of places like New York, Chicago, New Orleans and San Fran- cisco as being the fighting centres of the nation's life. "Yet, right here, right over our heads, the never-ending battle of the weather goes on, with its brigades of warring clouds, its wind-cavalry and its artillery of storm. The sky holds more secrets than the. city does and there's a lot of loo WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN adventurous work to be done. Which of you is game to do it? Who'll volunteer?" An excited babble of answers greeted him. "I will, Mr. Levin!" cried one. "Sure!" said another. "Put me down for it," proclaimed a third, voicing the general sentiment. Eoss brought the matter to a point. "The way I feel about it," he said, "I reckon we'd all like to tackle something like that. And, I tell you, chaps, it would be bully for us to have a club-house of our own." "A club-house!" cried one. "Yes," said Boss, "Anton's father is ready to give us the old barn. He says we can fix it up any way we like." "All for our own?" "Yes, to do anything we like with. Mr. Levin has given me some bully ideas about things we can do, and Bob's thought up a scheme that's just great!" and he proceeded to explain the lad's offer of wireless. The enthusiasm of the boys was rapidly grow- ing. With the Forecaster behind him, with An- ton's rain-gauge, with the new sun-dial staring them in the face, with Bob's plan for the wireless PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK loi: plant, with a club-house of their own and the admitted leadership of Eoss, the whole group was swinging into line. "Tell you what I'll do for my share, fellows," said another of the boys. "You know that print- ing-press of mine?" "You mean the one you printed the pirate flags on, Fred?" queried Eoss, referring to the Treas- ure Island period when the boat was made. "Yes. Ever since Dad found that he had to use the shed I used to keep the press in, I haven't had much chance to get at it. I'll ship the press over here, if there 'd be room for it in our club- house," the words were said with great pride. "We could print a little weekly paper. I wanted to do that last year, but Dad said that he didn't want me to print nothing but gossip, and there didn't seem anything else to write. If we really had some stuff worth reading, like weather news, I'm sure I could make it go. Enough, anyhow, to pay for paper and mailing." ' ' You think we ought to issue a regular weather bulletin," said Eoss. "That's a good notion, Fred." "I'll let you have some of my stories," said one. 102 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "Or Fatty's jokes," suggested another, dodg- ing a nudge of the elbow from his neighbor. "A weather bulletin would be a good thing," the Forecaster said, approvingly. "What could the rest of us do?" asked an alert youngster. "I haven't a printing-press, or a wireless apparatus or anything else." "Nor have I," said two or three voices. The Forecaster looked quickly at Eoss. This was a crucial point. It was Anton who answered. "You've got plenty of wind at your place, Lee, haven't you?" he asked. The lad laughed. ' * Pop says it 's the windiest place in the county, ' ' he answered, "poked right up there on the top of that knoll." "You ought to be the official wind-measurer," the crippled lad declared. "There is a way to measure wind, isn't there, Mr. Levin?" "Certainly," the Forecaster answered, "it's a very necessary thing to do, too." "Pete's camera!" interjected the laconic Bob. "What's the good of that?" broke in its owner. "You can't snap-shot the wind, at least not that I've ever seen." "Clouds!" said Bob. PUTTING THE SUN TO WORK 103 "That's right," agreed Anton, "you could pho- tograph the clouds, Pete. Suppose you took a snap-shot of the sky every day, at the same time, for a year, it would make a peach of a series." "The Bureau at Washington would be glad of a series like that," put in the Forecaster. "So far as that's concerned, Pete, I'd buy a daily print for my own use. I couldn't pay much, of course, but enough to meet the cost of materials." Pete brightened up. "I'll do that, quicker'n a wink," he said. "I've snapshotted about everything else around here, but I never thought of the sky." "You could tackle eclipses and halos and rainr bows and lightning — all sorts of things," sug- gested Anton. "Eight-o!" answered Pete, "you can put me down as official photographer." "I don't see," said one of the smaller lads, "where that rain-gauge is so hard to make. I'll make one and put it up at my place." "Dad's got an old barometer," suggested an- other, * ' that he used to have when he was a steam- boat skipper. I'm sure he'd let me have it. It's in the attic now, where nobody looks at it. ' ' ' ' Some of us might measure the amount of sun- 104 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN shine," said Boss. "Isn't there some way of doing that, Mr. Levin?" "Indeed there is," the Forecaster replied. "Why, in some places, they run machinery by sun- shine. There is a big solar engine at Pasadena, in California, where they pump water and irrigate an orchard just by an arrangement of mirrors. Even a small one would run quite a good-sized engine." "Gimme that! Oh, gimme that!" burst in an- other of the boys, who had been passive thereto- fore but who was absorbed in mechanics. "I'll be tickled to have an engine run by sunshine." The Weather Forecaster looked around with a smile at the enthusiastic group. "It seems to me," he said, "that with an oflScial photographer, an official wind-measurer, an official sunshine recorder, an official wireless station, a club-house and an editor with an official publica- tion, 'The Mississippi League of the Weather' is mighty well launched on its way. "Now, I'm going to have the fun of making the first motion. I move you, Mr. Chairman, that the League come into the house and hold its first official feast!" CHAPTEE IV THE MASSACRE OF AN ABMY "Where's the boss?" queried a strange voice, one afternoon. The entire mechanical staff of the Issaquena County Weather Herald, consisting of Fred Lang, publisher and editor-in-chief, aged fifteen, and a general assistant with the blackest face and the whitest teeth in the county, aged seventy, named Dan'l, turned at the question. "Why?" asked Fred. The stranger stepped into the office of the Herald. "I'd be wishful to see the foreman," he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "that's if he's not too busy." Fred grinned in response. "I guess I'm the foreman," he said. "I'm lookin' for a job," the new-comer ex- plained. "What kind of a job?" "Anny kind of a job in a printLa' shop," the 105 io6 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN Irishman replied. "I'm an old-timer. There's nothin' about printin' I don't know." "Have you seen a copy of our paper?" asked Fred. "I have so," was the reply, "I've got it with me, right here." He pulled from his pocket the latest number of the little four-page sheet. * ' 'Tis an illigant publication," he went on, "but I'm thinkin' that you're in sore need of a printer." "Does it look so bad?" queried the "foreman." "The worst of it is, I don't know how to make it any better." "I'm not saying that it's bad, but there's a deal to be learnt about printin'," the journeyman de- clared. "I'm thinkin* your compositor hasn't had overmuch experience." "He hasn't," the boy admitted. "I'm him. Dan'l helps me all he can, but since he can't read, it makes it bad." "Give me the job," said the Irishman, "an' I'll make the paper look right." "I can't," Fred replied. "The subscriptions hardly pay for the paper and the ink. I give Dan'l thirty cents a week for wages to run the press and it's hard to scrape up that much, be- cause Mr. Levin says I mustn't pay out a cent THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 107 that the Herald hasn't actually earned. What wages do you want?" "Three dollars a day when I'm workin'," the journeyman printer replied, "an' the good green grass to sleep on and a hunk of corn-bread to eat when I'm not." The young editor looked at the journeyman printer with a sudden eagerness. "I've got four dollars and a half saved up," he said, "that's a day and a half's wages. "Will you teach me all about printing in a day and a half? That isn't office money, that's my own, but, you see, it 's for me. ' ' "I'll teach ye for nothin','' said the Irishman, pleased at the boy's pluck, "if ye '11 give me a bite to eat an' a place to sleep." Fred shook his head. "No," he said, "Mr. Levin won't let any of us boys take something for nothing. I'd sooner pay. It would be great if you could get out this week's number for us, and let me see how you do it. I'd learn a heap that way, and it would be just the stuff I want to know. Then the number you got out we could use for something to go by. But you'll have to do it in a day and a half, because that's all the money I've got. Can you?" io8 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "I can that," the printer answered, "an' I'll pay for my board out of it, so that you won't be spending all your money." "Can't do that either," said the boy, "because that would make it Anton's Dad's money, not mine. If you want to pay him, all right." The Irishman stripped off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. "I'll be lookin' to see what fonts o' type ye have in the shop," he declared, and examined the forms which were lying on the rough table. "Did anny one ever show you annything about printin'?" he asked presently. "No," said the boy, "I got this printing-press from a chap whose brother used to run it. The fellow who owned it was going to show me how it worked, but he went away and hasn't come back." "Watch me a while," the journeyman re- sponded and began to unlock the forms that had stood since the issue of the week before. It was a revelation to the boy to see how the trained fingers of the printer sorted, classified, and ar- ranged the type. Talking steadily, in his Irish fashion, the journeyman explained how the type should be set up, showed that they had been THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 109 using twice as much ink as necessary, warned them against pinching the type too closely, ex- plaining that this "put the letters off their feet," and, by altering the arrangement of the sheet, im- proved its appearance a thousandfold. These routine matters were quickly adjusted, and then the printer asked for the copy which was to fill the first page. "It's just got here," the young editor answered. "I haven't looked over it yet, but I guess it's all right. I had a wireless yesterday that one of our chaps was sending in a corking description of a sunset, or rather a sort of description of all the sunsets in the last month. Here it is." He handed the pages of boyish handwriting to the journeyman, who looked over them hastily. " 'Tis fine stuff, entirely," he said in surprise. "I'd be wishful to take some copies of the paper for myself. Listen to this now!" And, turning the sheets, the enthusiastic Irishman read aloud: " 'Sunsets all look different, but when you write down what you see, one right after the other, they seem to be quite alike, that is, when the sky is clear. When the sun begins to set, and there are not many clouds, the lowest part of the sky is more different from the rest of it than in day- no WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN time. In the west — at the side of the setting sun — the sky looks white, changing to yellow. In the north and south, it is a duU yellow, which gets yellower. In the east, it is a dirty yellow, which changes slowly into a dull purple. All these yellows are duller at the horizon than a little way above. The purple in the east looks gray at the sky-line but shades into blue, higher up.' " 'Tis an illigant style the boy has," declared the journeyman, and continued: " 'Just as soon as the sun begins to drop below the horizon, an ash-colored plate (the shadow of the earfli) begins to creep up the eastern sky, covering part of the purple bit and making it look like a purple rainbow. Soon the shadow covers all the purple light in the east. " 'In the west, where the sun is setting, the col- ors are all different. The whitish light spreads quite a long way up into the blue, but when the sun comes close to the horizon, this turns to yellow, lighter higher up and darker lower down. It is sometimes reddish at the horizon line, and the clouds are turned to pink. " 'After the sun has really gone down, the yel- low gets darker, changing into orange, sometimes. THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY in while the white spot spreads sideways and its upper edge marks off the brighter from the darker bits of the sky, " 'In the darker part of the sky, at about quar- ter way up, a purple glow suddenly appears. It grows bigger quickly, making a circle, the lower edge of which looks as though it slipped behind the yellow strip. This purple spot in the west comes just as the purple rainbow in the east is dying out, and as the western purple spot grows it gets brighter, so that there is a time, after the sun sets, when it seems brighter than it did be- fore.' " "That's queer," interrupted Fred. The printer thought for a moment. "It's right, bedad," he said, "I've noticed it meself." He continued reading: " 'Sometimes there are dark blue and greenish stripes running down to the sun and these stripes shoot a long way up into the sky. " 'If there are any clouds, they seem to be gen- erally light yellow to begin with, changing to pink and rose, then red and dark orange. I couldn't find any system in the color of the clouds, perhaps because they are at different heights. 112 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN " 'A few times I've seen a sort of second faint purple arch or bow in the east, but by that time it's dark. In the west, though, the second arch is quite clear. As the first western purple arch sinks to the horizon, following the sun, a green stretch, ever so green, shows up, and above it is a second arch of bright light, with a purple arch above that. When this last one sinks, it is quite dark.' " Mr. Levin, as was his habit on Saturday after- noon, had come over to the League's club-house, and he had entered during the reading, followed by his usual bevy of boys ; Eex, Lassie, and four roly-poly puppies, now able to run around on un- steady legs, bringing up the rear. "That's a mighty accurate description of sunset colors," the Forecaster commented; "whoever did that, deserves a lot of credit. Hello! Have you enlarged your staff, Fred?" he continued, as he noted the printer and realized, at a glance, that the little shed had already assumed a more busi- ness-like look. The editor-in-chief explained the bargain he had made and the Weather Man nodded his head ap- provingly. "That's the best way I know to spend your THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 113 savings," he said, "using' them to learn some- thing. I'm glad you're going to have this issue properly printed, too, because that sunset article is about the best you've had, so far. If I don't miss my guess, a good many people wiU keep that number as a sort of reference for the colors of sunset. Who wrote it?" "I did, sir," said one of the boys who had come in with him. "Good work," the Forecaster commented. "Do you happen to know, though, Bert, what makes the colors of sunset? Why doesn't it just gradually get dark as the sun goes down?" "I don't know," the boy replied. "I tried to explain it the other day and I found I hadn't the least idea why, myself. I asked Father, but he didn't know either." "Yet it's quite simple," the Weather Man an- swered, "and if you boys are going to be real meteorologists, you ought to know the reasons for things. First of all, why is the sky blue?" There was a gasp of astonishment, followed by silence. "Sure, 'tis the air that's blue," hazarded the printer. "That doesn't help much," the Forecaster said, 114 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "though perhaps it does, a little. Why is the air blue?" The Irishman shook his head. "Why is annything blue?" he asked. "That's just what I'm going to tell you," the Weather Man answered, "and you want to listen carefully, boys, because the colors of the sunset depend a great deal on the weather. You can foretell weather from the sunset." "Yo' sho' can," interrupted Dan'l. "Don't yo' remember Mammy's old rhyme: "Evenin' red an' mornin' gray Certain signs of a beautiful day; Evenin' gray an' mornin' red, Sends a nigger wet to bed." "All those old rhymes are fakes, though, Dan'l," declared Anton, with the importance of his newly acquired weather knowledge. "Easy there, easy there!" warned the Fore- caster. "Not so fast. A good many of those old rhymes are mighty good weather forecasts. That one is, for example." "You mean, sir, that a red sunset and a gray sunrise really tell that the weather is going to be fine?" "Yes, to a great extent, they do." THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 115 "Why, Mr, Levin?" "Because they show the state of the atmos- phere, boys. Eain can't fall unless there is dust. Every little drop of rain has a grain of dust in the middle. The colors of the sunset, too, are due partly to dust. Not only that, but colors of the sunset vary as the particles of dust which reflect the rays of light, are enveloped by water vapor. "A piece of dust, without an envelope of water, is smaller than one with a little wetness around it. "When more water vapor gathers around the piece of dust, the drop becomes bigger. When the sunset is red, it is a sign that it is shining on very small bits of dust, or that the condensation of water vapor into rain has not advanced very far. If, however, the sunset sky is gray, that means that the upper air is saturated, that it has all the water it can hold, and, of course, rain is likely to come soon." "I should think, then," said Anton, "that gray in the morning would be a bad sign, too. ' ' "It's not, though," the Forecaster replied; "the proverb is right there, as well. A gray sky in the morning means that the air is filled with water drops which are large enough to reflect light of every color. While this is the same as the ii6 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN gray of evening, the processes that led to the forming of these drops is quite different. In the day the dust is heated and the forming of the droplets in the afternoon is due to cooling. In the night, the condensation is caused by loss of heat through radiation. Eadiation shows that the air above must be dry. Therefore a gray morning means a dry air above the water drops, and this means a fine day, for the droplets will soon be evaporated by the rising sun. The red morning sky declares that the dust particles have been protected from radiation by a blanket of overlying moisture, the air, therefore, is saturated to great heights and rain is probable. So you see, Anton, Mammy's rhyme is right." "What fo' yo' talk to me against signs," de- clared Dan'l, putting out his chest and strutting; "Ah done told yo' them signs am pow'ful good." "But the sunset colors, sir?" the author of the article asked. "You said they were due to dust. Just how, sir?" "Yes, to dust, plain ordinary dust, but dust of the lightest kind," was the reply. "If you could go up in the air a hundred miles, the sky above you in the middle of the day would be jet black and the sun would shine down on you like THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 117 a great bright-blue ball, without any white glare around it at all." "Then it's a blue sun that makes a blue sky!" cried Fred. "Don't go so fast," the*Forecaster warned him. "I want you to think of the sky, first. It's a dead black, a hundred miles up. Now, at a hundred miles up, the air is so thin that there's little or no dust, but as you gradually come down and the air becomes denser, it begins to be able to buoy up some dust. Boys," he said, breaking off suddenly, "why does a stick float in water when it falls in air?" "Because water is denser than air?" guessed Eoss. "Exactly. And why does a bar of iron sink through water and not through earth!" "Because the particles of earth won't move aside as easUy as the particles of water, I sup- pose." "Not quite, but something that way. So, you see, as the air gets gradually denser* it becomes gradually more able to support par- ticles of dust, light ones at first, then heavier and heavier, until near the earth big pieces of dust can be carried in the air. You know how big some ii8 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN of them are when you happen to get a grain in your eye ! Viscosity has a lot to do with it, too. "The light of the sun is a bluish-white, like some of the blue stars. White, as you remember from the rainbow, is just a mixture of all sorts of colors and the different colors are created by waves of light; some being shorter and others longer. A long wave, like the red, will pass around a tiny piece of dust, but a short wave, like the blue, will be stopped by it, and scattered, sometimes polarized, as it is called, or turned into one plane." "I don't think I quite see that," said Anton. "It's a little complicated," the Weather Man answered, "but maybe I can give you an idea of it. Suppose you were on a big steamboat in a choppy sea. As the steamer's length would ex- tend over several of these waves, none of them would be big enough to make the vessel heave. If you were on that same choppy sea in a small canoe, you would be tossed in every direction. Now, if you think of the long red wave of light as a steamer and the blue as a canoe, you can see that in a ripple of small particles of dust the blue is going to be more affected than the red. In other words, the blue wiU be scattered. It THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 119 will be diffused all over tlie sky and the light that comes through will be less blue. ' ' "Then I should think the sun would look red," said Anton. "It does," the Forecaster explained, "when there's a fog, which simply means, when there's more obstruction in the air. Sunlight is never white, as you know, it's yellow- white and the golden effect is due to dust. It's the same way at sunset. Then the rays of the sun which reach you pass through a larger amount of air, because you're looking at them from an angle, so they have to strike more grains of dust, and more of the blue rays are scattered. Then, too, when the sun, at sunset is, to you, shining obliquely on the atmosphere, it is passing through several layers of air and these bend the rays differently. ' ' "I still don't see," said the author of the sun- set-color article, "why there should be so much pink, or rose-color, and why the clouds should generally be pink." "There's not much pink in a clear sky," the Forecaster answered, "and as for the pink clouds, you've never seen them in the west when the sun was still above the horizon, have you?" "No — no," said the other, "I don't think so. 120 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN The pink generally comes after the sun had dis- appeared." "Scientifically, of course," the "Weather Man said, "the sun has gone below the horizon at least two minutes before you see it disappear. You're looking at a sun that isn't there at all. That's due to refraction. The reason of the pink glow is that when you see it, the earth and the air for several thousand feet above you are in the shadow of the edge of the earth. The sun, therefore, is not shining on the thicker dust of the lower part of the air, but the finer dust of the upper part, the particles of which are small and more uniform in shape. "The glow is of a rose-color because the par- ticles are of the size to diffuse the rays of this wave-length. That's why rose colors appear in the east, before the west, and why the color lasts in the sky, which may be reflected on dust twelve miles high, after it has disappeared from the up- per clouds, which are not more than eight miles high." " 'Tis the illigant hand ye are at explainin'," put in the Irishman, "but I c'n remember, when I was learnin' me trade, about thirty-four years ago, the sunsets were much finer than annything iiil^^k « ^ $ S5 S'Si \, '., H =a Q H O'S OO S ■Is, S| 5 « _o m & a u tH ^ < H t3 CC i CI - «8 H ta-S Eh CD a S s'g) ;^ ^P H s g C3 ^ e ^ Kjd ■£ M g.5f o Eil H CC O 05 a f^ so"o ■^ "5. ft* 8« THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 139 dened, turned backward and plunged with their riders into the flames. For an instant, horse and man would flare up like tow and then there would be a black twisting thing that dwindled to nothing in the blaze. Out from the burning city, in wild and utter retreat, flew the French Grand Army, out to a land without food, without forage, without inhabitants, and the nearest help a thousand miles away. "Then came the snow. No longer was the red sunrise before them, but behind them. The vic- torious march was a defeat. Black-gray clouds came over the sky and obscured the sun. At first the snow was to the ankles, then to the calves, and then to the knees. The wind was bitterly cold and the men ill-clad. It froze the French to their marrow. Every few miuutes a soldier dropped from starvation, cold and exhaustion. The Eus- sians did not appear. There was no need. They had a new ally — the wolves! No one could stop to pick up an exhausted soldier; it was aU that any man could do to keep up himself. Half the officers were on foot. The cannons were aban- doned. When a horse died, the regiment ate him and staggered on. * ' The Cossacks now began to add their terrors 140 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN to those of the wolves. If a small detachment straggled out of the blinding snow, unseen until that time would come a rush of the furious and valiant horsemen of the steppes, and the detach- ment, hungry and exhausted, would be cut to pieces. They fought with heroic courage, but no man can fight the "Weather. "Smolensk was reached on the return march, with the wreck of the French army, now only fifty thousand strong. The skeletons of four hundred thousand men lay on the Kussian plains. Near a place called Krasnoi, the Bussian army suddenly appeared and a battle was fought. Napoleon commanded with his old-time mastery and suc- ceeded in breaking through the Russian lines, but he had to leave Marshal Ney with six thousand men behind him. Ney performed wonders, and with his tiny force also broke through the Eussian army, but when the French resumed their flight, Ney had only eight hundred men. The rear- guard alone lost five thousand at that place. "The French Army had now reached the marshes, but the Weather was fighting for Eussia. Just at this time, a sudden and unexpected thaw set in, making the marsh a morass. The Eus- sians, well-provisioned, circled around the French THE MASSACRE OF AN ARMY 141 army, and again came in front of them at a river called the Beresina. Waist-deep in that icy cur- rent, with masses of floating ice being carried down by the sudden thaw, with a huge Russian ■army on the opposite bank, the French soldiers fought for their homeward way. Winter was be- fore, winter behind, the Russians on the barrier. Yet the French fought on and crossed the Bere- sina with marvellous courage, the Russian strat- egy, meanwhile, sacrificing comparatively few men. The Beresina was crossed, but when the Russians were finally swept aside and the French passed through, less than nine thousand men an- swered the roll call. Forty thousand had been lost between Smolensk and the Beresina. "The thaw was followed by another terrible period of cold. The retreat of the army became a fearful rout. Napoleon, himself, fell a victim to the panic, and deserting his troops to Murat, spurred for France, reaching Paris after a ride of three hundred and twelve hours. The routed and disorganized French Army straggled back to Germany, to Austria and to France. When Christmas Day that year came down over Europe, less than five thousand men were alive of the four hundred and fifty thousand who had started six 142 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN months before to carry the eagles of Napoleon over Russia. It was the most splendid campaign and the most spectacular rout in history, and the foe who fought the battles that defeated the Great Emperor was — The Weather." CHAPTER V THE KTJNAWAT KITE The sunset pictures made a better showing as lithographs than even their young creator could have hoped, and the Issaquena County Weather Review became a source of personal pride to every one in the neighborhood. The farmers and planters vied with each other in giving informa- tion of weather happenings and the little publi- cation was never short of ' ' copy. ' ' "Dan'l," said Fred to his chief assistant, one day, "I'm going to print an article on 'Weather Superstitions.' " "Yas, suh," said the darky, wondering what was coming. "And you're going to write it." "Ah write it? Sho', now, you'se jokin', Mistah Fred. Ah can't even write my own name." "I know that. You don't need to write, Dan'l. You're going to collect every rhyme and proverb and saying about the weather you can hunt up in 143 144 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN the neighborhood. Get Mammy Crockett to tell you all she knows. Then you must repeat it to me. I'll write it down word for word, and it'll be your article." "If yo' wrote it down, it wouldn't be mine," ob- jected Dan'l. "Oh, yes, it would," the editor-in-chief assured him, "some of the greatest authors in the world dictate their books." So Dan'l went aU around the neighborhood, an- nouncing that he was a ' ' sho ' enough autho ' now, ' ' and so full of delight that there was no holding him in at all. He proved a good collector of su- perstitions, moreover, and when at last the article came out in the Review, it was so complete and so original that it was reprinted in one of the big Folk-Lore Magazines. The visit of the journeyman printer had been of great value. Fred had been shown just how the work should be done and his pride was in- volved in keeping the paper up to the standard. Moreover, the Irishman had secured a large box of discarded type from a printing firm in Vicks- burg, and had forwarded this to the boys. Fred returned the courtesy by mailing Mike a copy of the Review regularly, and Mike occasionally sent THE RUNAWAY KITE 145 a package of the printing trade magazines that he found lying around the shop. Fred picked up many hints from these and thus secured quite a good start in his knowledge of the printing trade. The " official photographer" had been equally successful. One day, while up on the levee try- ing to take a satisfactory picture of an elusive "mackerel sky," which was changing from mo- ment to moment, he met a stranger. This stran- ger was sitting on a log that projected into the river, holding a rod and line, and landing fish with an accustomed skill. "What in blazes are you trying to photo- graph?" he said after a while, as he watched the lad focussing his camera earthwards on what looked like a piece of black glass, which projected from the stand. "Clouds, sir," answered Ealph. "When I try to photograph clouds I look at the sky, not on the ground," the stranger remarked. "What's that contrivance you've got on your camera stand, anyway?" "It's just a broken piece of looking glass," said the boy, "but I painted it on the back with black enamel. ' ' "What for?" 146 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "So that I could get at the clouds easier, sir," the boy replied. "I read how to do that in a book I've got." "I don't see why black glass should make any difference," said the fisherman, getting up from the log and coming over to where the boy was standing. "It does, sir. If you look on the glass," said Ralph, "you'll see. The clouds are ever so much sharper." The stranger looked in. Even the fleecy white clouds, scarcely visible in the blue sky overhead, stood out a clear white against the blackness of the mirror. The blue sky was not reflected in the glass. "That's queer," said the stranger, "the blue hardly shows at all. I wonder why?" "It said in the book," Ralph explained, "that the blue didn't show up so much because it was partly polarized. I couldn't quite understand what that meant. As far as I could make out, the blue color of the sky is due to waves that are scat- tered sideways instead of coming straight down like the white light does." "I suppose it is polarized," said the fisherman, "but it hadn't ever occurred to me that the sky THE RUNAWAY KITE 147 wouldn't be reflected in a black mirror. You're right, though. The clouds do stand out well! You ought to be able to get some good pictures from your mirror." "I have got a lot, sir,'- said Kalph. "I've made three cloud photographs every day, rain or shine, for over two monthc now. ' ' "Every day?" "Yes, sir, before breakfast, after dinner, and just before I begin my evening chores. ' ' "What's the idea of that?" Finding a ready listener, Ealph plunged into the story of the Mississippi Weather League and of his crippled friend, Anton. "It's a mighty useful piece of work," the fish- erman commented, when the lad had finished, "and I'm especially interested in these cloud pho- tographs of yours. I need some. Have you any prints of them?" "Yes, sir," was the reply, "heaps." "If they're really any good, I might be able to use a few," the fisherman continued. "I'm writ- ing a series of articles for an outdoor magazine and I want some Mississippi Eiver pictures pretty badly. Mine haven't come out particularly well." 148 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "I'll show you all I've got," eagerly replied Ealpli, and, a little later, he took the stranger home with him. There he displayed, not only his cloud photo- graphs, but also all the snap-shots he had made with his camera during the three years he had owned it. The magazine writer was highly de- lighted, for many of the pictures were exactly what he needed, and when he went away he took with him thirty photographs, for which he paid Ralph, as he said, the "regular price" of three dollars apiece. "That's what they'd have to pay if they bought them from any of the news photo houses," he re- marked, "and you might as well get the same." To Ealph this ninety dollars was a fortune. He offered to turn the entire sum over to the League, or at least that part of it which had been paid for the cloud photographs. Eoss vetoed this offer, on the ground that the League itself had not earned the money. Instead, Ealph put away some of the cash and with the rest he bought a new lens for his camera. "With this lens he was able to take cloud pictures even better than his former ones. A few weeks later, at the next Monthly Feast of the League, Ealph came proudly forward with THE RUNAWAY KITE 149 a collection of over one hundred cloud photo- graphs. "I don't see, fellows," he said, "why we all couldn't have a shot at observing the clouds. I was talking to Anton the other day, and he didn't seem to know anything about the names of the clouds at all. I dug 'em up from a book I've got at home. I was thinking that it would be rather jolly if each member of the League had a set of cloud photographs for himself, with the right names of the clouds and all that sort of thing on the back. It isn't much trouble to make prints." "I'd like to have a set, Ealph," said Eoss promptly. "I hate to feel like a dub and not know about the clouds. It 's like not knowing any of the stars." "There certainly ought to be a set in the office of the Review," declared its editor-in-chief. "I've been wondering," began Anton, "whether Mr. Levin wouldn't pick out the best ones and tell us exactly what they are. I had an awful job trying to get Ealph to bring his pictures today; he said he wanted to wait until he had perfect ones." "You'll wait a long time, my boy," the Fore- caster put in, "if you wait until you have a per- I50 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN feet set. I don't know of such a set anywhere in the world. Clayden, in England, has got some fine examples — " "It's his book I've got," interrupted Ralph. "There are a few good pictures in that," the weather expert said. "Loisel, in France, has some good examples and our own Weather Bureau has done quite a little cloud work. But those I've seen of yours, Ralph, are quite good. If you like, I'll go over them for you and pick out the ones that are the most characteristic. Your plan to give a set to each of the boys is quite worth while. Let's see the pictures, Ralph." The "official photographer" pulled out, from a bulging inside pocket, a large bundle of photo- graphic prints and spread them on the table. The collection included both the pictures Ralph had taken with his new lens and some of the old ones intensified in the way that his visitor had showed him. They made a striking contrast, in their vivid black and white, to the cloud pictures, printed in a pale blue, issued by the Weather Bureau. "I think Ralph's pictures are away ahead of the Weather Bureau ones," declared Fred. The Forecaster shook his head. THE RUNAWAY KITE 151 "Some of them are prettier pictures," he said, "but the Weather Bureau sheet is chosen to help observers classify the clouds. If you notice that blue sheet of cloud forms that "Washington has issued, you'll notice that they are very carefully selected and that you really can tell the various types of cloud from them. At the same time, clouds are hard to classify, because, at any given time, you're looking at a stretch of sky — counting the separate layers of cloud — several hundred square miles in extent, and, generally, there are many different typet; ai cloud in the sky at the same time." "How many kinds of clouds does the Weather Bureau name?" asked Anton. ' ' Ten, ' ' was the reply. ' * There are lots of vari- ations in those main groups, but that's enough to begin on. The general idea of the classification is by the heights of clouds, the Cirrus group being the highest, from about six to ten miles, the Alto group, ranging from two to six miles, and the Cumulus and Stratus groups below that. Here," he continued, picking out a photograph that showed only a few faint specks of white, "is a true Cirrus. It is the highest of the clouds, and, as you can see from the photograph, it is delicate 152 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN and fibrous. This one, that looks like the ghosts of feathers, is another form. "Cirrus clouds always appear to move slowly, because they're so high up. As a matter of fact, they fly along at the rate of from one hundred to two hundred miles an hour, and generally in an easterly direction. This photo that looks as if the clouds were a whole pile of spiders ' webs, all mixed up, is the second class of clouds, known as Cirro-Stratus. Did you happen to notice, Ealph, whether there was a halo round the sun when you took this?" "Yes, sir, there was," the boy answered, "but it hasn't showed up on the plate. I've got some halo pictures at home, but I didn't think of bring- ing them along. I just brought my cloud stuff this time." "Well," said the Forecaster, "suppose you put one of those in here as an example of cirro-stratus. There couldn 't be a halo without it. All the upper clouds are made of ice crystals and it is the re- fractioli of the sunlight through these ice crystals that forms most halos. By the way, boys, don't confuse a halo with a corona. They're quite easy to tell apart, because a halo, unless it is one of the unusual white ones, always has red as the inside %l Cirrus Implexus Alto-Strato-Cumulus Types of Upper Clouds. Cumulus Stratus Types or Loweb Clouds. *~ . '^^'^^■■-. Cumulo-Nimbus Xii/ibus Types of Rain Clouds. THE RUNAWAY KITE 153 color and a corona always has the red on the out- side." "How can I tell them apart on a photograph plate, sir?" asked Ralph. "That doesn't show any colors." "By their distance from the sun," the meteor- ologist replied. "Halos are seldom seen except at distances of about twenty-two degrees and forty-six degrees from the sun. There are lots of others, but they are rare. You '11 soon learn to catch those distances by eye. Coronas are usually much smaller. "I think one of the most striking forms of cirro- stratus is the polar 'band,' which stretches from one side of the sky to the other, like a wide white road." 1 "Ah knows that one, Mistah Levin," put in Dan'l. "Noah, he done stretch that road for the animals to get out of the Ark. ' ' The Forecaster glanced at the aged darky. "You certainly did manage to pick up a lot of queer superstitions in that article of yours, Dan'l. I've heard that cloud called a Noah's Ark cloud, but I never knew why." "Yas, suh; oh, yas, suh," Dan'l repeated ear- nestly, "Noah, he done make that cloud, jest like 154 WITH THE U.S. WEATHER MEN the rainbow was made to convince Noah that there weren't goin' to be no more floods." "A high cirro-stratus which looks as if some cream had been poured on the blue sky and hadn't mixed properly yet," the Forecaster continued, "is cirro-nebula. It's very hard to photograph, and even when you do get it on a plate, it doesn't look like much. "Now the third one in the classification is very familiar. That's the well-known mackerel sky. What's the rhyme about that, Dan'l?" Proud at being thus appealed to, the darky quoted triumphantly: "Mackerel scales and mares' tails, Make lofty ships carry low sails." "That's correct," said the weather expert, "be- cause those clouds foretell wind. Sometimes the cloud flakes are less solid and look like the foam in the wake of a steamer. "Beneath them come the alto clouds, which are made up of drops of moisture instead of crystals of ice. The fourth class, called alto-stratus, is a thick sheet of gray or bluish color, sometimes thin enough to let the sun shine through. When lower and in heavy roundish masses it's called alto- THE RUNAWAY KITE 155 cumulus, which is the fifth on the list, and when it is lower still and looks like a lot of great blue- gray footballs wedged closely together it is known as strato-cumulus. " He shuffled the prints rapidly, selecting types of clouds as he did so, and pencilling on the back the character of the cloud. "Then comes the cumulus, the big round cloud, that looks like masses of fluffy cotton wool piled on top of each other. These are the 'woolpack clouds,' which, in summer time, throw deep shad- ows on the grass. It is this cloud which, when it comes between you and the sun, gives rise to the old saying that 'every cloud has its silver lining.' " "Those aren't the thunder clouds, sir, are they?" the photographer asked. "No," the Forecaster answered. "The thun- derstorm clouds are called cumulo-nimbus. They're heavy masses of cloud rising in the forms of mountains or towers. Isn't there a rhyme about clouds and towers, Dan'l?" "Yas, suh, there's a rhyme," the old darky re- plied, and he quoted: "When clouds resemble domes an' towers The earth is wet with frequent showers." 156 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "That, boys," the weather expert said, "is an- other true proverb, because the description applies to thunderstorm clouds, when the rain is likely to fall in frequent showers," "It doesn't look like a regular rainy sky, though, Mr. Levin," said Anton. "I thought rainy skies were usually heavy and gray." "They are," the Forecaster answered, "and the Weather Bureau gives all the rain clouds the gen- eral name of Nimbus, which simply means a thick layer of dark clouds, without shape and with rag- ged edges, through which rain or snow falls stead- ily. Sometimes, when there is a powerful wind in the doud layer, the lower edges of the clouds are broken apart, or loose clouds are seen travel- ing fast under the overlying gray. Sailors call this scud." "Mr. Levin, sub," broke in Dan'l, "Ah knows a rhyme for scud, too," and he quoted: "Scud above and scud below Shows there's goin' to' be a blow." "Well," said the Forecaster, hesitating, "that's not quite as good as some of the others, because you don't see scud until the wind has already come. As a whole, though, it's right, because it THE RUNAWAY KITE 157 implies that the atmospheric currents are power- ful, and if the rain disappears, a wind is likely to follow. I noticed you missed the rhyme about the rain before the wind, in your article, Dan'l," he continued. "Tas, suh!" the darky answered, "Ah don't know that one." "It runs like this," the Forecaster answered; "When the rain comes before the wind, Be sure to take your topsails in, When the wind comes before the rain, You can put them on again." "That's a good one, too, because high winds and steady rain seldom go together. "The last type of clouds, which is Number Ten in the Weather Bureau Classification, is called Stratus. It really looks like a lifted fog, which sometimes it is. Indeed, there is no essential dif- ference between clouds and fogs, anyway, except that fogs are formed at the surface and clouds above it." "All clouds are fogs, sir?" said Anton, in a sur- prised voice. "Yes, my boy. Clouds are visible water vapor. Their visibility depends largely on condensation, just as rain depends largely on the dew-point." 158 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN ""What's the dew-point, sir?" "The dew-point," the Forecaster explained, "is the temperature at which the air becomes so full of vapor that it can't hold any more without let- ting it down as rain or snow. It's never the same any two days in succession, because the air can hold more water vapor when it is warm than when it is cold." "Is that why muggy days are so uncomforta- ble?" asked Eoss. "Yes. When the air is full of water vapor, it hasn't the same readiness to absorb it. When you perspire on a dry, hot, windy day, the air absorbs it right away, but on a day that's humid or muggy, the air can't hold any more, so it doesn't evaporate and the perspiration trickles down your back and into your eyes. A moist cli- mate feels hotter in the summer and colder in the winter than a dry one, although, in reality, it isn't as hot or as cold. Every moist climate is a cloudy climate, and Ireland — ^which is called the Green or Emerald Isle because there's so much rain that none of the vegetation ever dries up — ^has some of the most beautiful clouds in the world. ' ' "Is there any place in the United States without clouds?" asked Ralph. THE RUNAWAY KITE 159 "There's no place in the world that's absolutely cloudless," was the answer, "but clouds in some deserts are few and far between. There's one well known hotel, in the Southwest, that advertises 'free board every day that the sun doesn't shine.' It's a safe offer, too, for last year they only lost two days on it. There are some clouds there, but not such as to obscure the sun. "In a cloudless country, boys, there are great extremes of temperature, as much as forty to fifty degrees between noon and midnight. You'll get sunstroke in the early part of the afternoon and shiver under blankets in the evening. That's be- cause there are no protecting layers of clouds to equalize the radiation. The air, especially high up, is very cold. Don't forget that the upper clouds are all made of ice crystals. ' ' "I've been wondering," said Anton, "how you can find out that it 's so cold high up in the air if no one can live up there?" "Balloonists have often passed through clouds of ice crystals and snow," the Forecaster an- swered, "though, of course, they've not been as high as the upper clouds. Many observations have been made by releasing small sounding bal- loons with an instrument attached, letting them go i6o WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN as high as they could, until they burst and f eU to the ground. But much of our upper-air exploring has also been done with kites." ' ' Kites ? Like Franklin 's ? " "Not quite," said the Forecaster; "our weather kites aren't built like that. They look more like a box. I'm expecting one here, every day." "Here?" "Yes, boys," the Forecaster answered, "right here. There's a young chap I know who used to work with WiUiam A. Eddy, of New Jersey, the father of scientific kite-flying in this country. I wrote to young Osborne, and sent him a copy of the Issaquena County Weather Review, the one with the sunset articles and pictures in it." "Osborne, sir!" ejaculated the editor-in-chief, "I got his subscription just a week ago." "Did you?" said the Forecaster, interested. * ' That 's nice of him ! He wrote to me that he was constantly improving his kite models and that he had a couple of old ones which he now seldom flew. He sent me their records, too, so I know they must be good kites. He wanted to know if the Missis- sippi League of the Weather wouldn't do some kite-flying and send him records of the observa- tions." THE RUNAWAY KITE i6i "Would we?" cried the enthusiastic Monroe. "I should say we would!" "It means quite a bit of trouble," the weather expert warned them; "scientific kite-flying needs machinery. ' ' "Why, sir?" asked Ross. "Can't we do it by hand?" "No," was the reply, "you can't. How would you reel the kite home? It's a very different thing sending up a Japanese paper kite on a string a few hundred feet in the air, and making an ascent of a couple of miles with a weather kite. For one thing, the weather kite is flown with wire and an especially strong kind of wire at that." "Where will we get the wire?" "I've advanced the money for it," the Fore- caster answered, "and for the shipment of the kites. I thought, perhaps, after a while, we might hold a kite contest and charge an admission fee, because, as you know, I think the League should be on a self-supporting basis. I'll render you a bill, then, and you can pay me." "Thanks ever so much, sir," said Rose. "That's fine. We'll do it. But who's to have charge of the kite-fiying?" "That's your affair," the Forecaster answered. i62 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "I've nothing to do with the inner workings of the League." "I've been wondering," said Anton, "if Tom oughtn't to do it. He's our wind expert." Tom flushed with pleasure at the suggestion., "I haven't done much on the wind stuff," he admitted; "there didn't seem anything to do but to take measurements and things." "I seem to remember reading them weekly in the Review," the Forecaster remarked. "Oh, I've done it all regularly enough, but it didn't seem to be of much use," the boy said. "You'll find that it will be of a great deal of use in the League's kite work," the weather ex- pert rejoined. "I think Anton's right," put in Ross. "Hands up those who think Tom ought to do it." Every hand shot up in the air. Tom shuffled his feet on the ground and squirmed uneasily. "All right," he said, "I'll try. You'll tell us what to do, Mr. Levin." The next few weeks were busy ones for the Mis- sissippi League of the Weather. The building of the kite reel, more than anything else, gave the boys a sense of the power of the new force that Courtesy of L S Weather Bureau KlTE-FLYI>'G — THE NEW WAT. Kite-flying— THE old way. Benjamin Franklin performing his famous experiment, whereby he proved that a flash of lightning was an electric discharge. Courtesy of U.S. Weather Bureau. The Bxplobek of the Upper Aib. Weather box kite being released at the Drexel Aerologieal Station, with equipment to tell altitude, pressure of atmosphere, velocity of wind, and temperature, in a continuous record. THE RUNAWAY KITE 163 they were going to handle. The Weather Review announced the expected arrival of the two kites, and the interest of the neighborhood was aroused. Not since the days of the Civil War had any- thing given the farmers of the district as much to talk about as did the weekly issues of the Issa- quena County Weather Review, and the people of the county took the keenest interest in all the doings of the League. Fred had been anxious to make the paper bigger and more important, as soon as it became flourishing, but he was held back in this by the conservative and laconic Bob. The wireless expert showed him that as long as the paper was kept small and easy to get out, it could be kept good. As a result, everything had to be condensed, and every bit of the little sheet was interesting. Twice the Review was quoted in important meteorological journals and various weather periodicals were sent as exchanges to the office. It meant a lot of work for the editor-in- chief, but Fred's father, realizing that the post was an excellent training for his son, released him from all his Saturday chores. At last the word came that the kites had actu- ally arrived. A farm wagon was sent in to fetch the wooden cases, and that wagon, when it drove i64 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN into town, had every member of the League on board, all excited and chattering like so many mag- pies. Eex and Lassie, the pair of four-legged members of the League, also came along to give dignity to the occasion. Permission had been secured from Tom's father to use part of the pasture as a kite-flying station, and, bright and early the next Saturday, the League gathered at the wind-measurer's home to see the cases unpacked. Mr. Levin also came, to give advice and suggestions. "What's the direction of the wind, Tom?" he asked. The boy glanced up at his home-made weather- vane, which had been adjusted so that it was right to the fraction of a degree. "South-southeast, sir," he said. "Is it steady or veering?" the weather expert continued. He was anxious that Tom should feel the importance of his wind observations. "What was it this morning?" "I'll see, sir," said Tom, and hurried into the house for his book on wind observations, which he had kept faithfully, though, in all the five months of the League's work, there had been no oppor- tunity to make use of them. THE RUNAWAY KITE 165 "It was south — a quarter — east this morning," he answered quite importantly. "And what is the present velocity?" came the next query. Tom ran up the short ladder to the dial of his Eobinson anemometer or wind-measurer. This consisted of four cup-shaped pieces of metal fast- ened to four arms at right angles to each other, and set horizontally in a socket. The force of the wind on the open cup-shaped sides was so much stronger than on the convex or rounded sides that the anemometer whirled around quite rapidly. "Say," said one of the boys as he watched Tom, "I didn't know he had all this down so pat! It's great!" "Fourteen miles an hour, sir," said Tom, as he ran down the ladder, "by the anemometer dial." "Well," the Forecaster replied, "fourteen miles an hour is a good enough breeze for kite-flying. How about it, boys? Shall we try a flight to- day?" "Oh, let's!" the boys exclaimed. "Very well," said the Forecaster, "we'U put the kites together. Have any pf you ever seen a weather kite?" he queried. "I've seen a picture of one, sir," said Fred. 1 66 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "I saw it in one of the Weather Bureau booklets. It looked like a box with the ends knocked out. Are these like that?" "Yes," the weather expert replied, "all over the world the Hargrave or box kite is used. There's a little difference in the methods of bracing the frames, but the principle of them all is the same." "Are they the best kites for lifting, sir?" asked Anton. "I saw a picture, once, of a man being carried along the ground by a kite, but it didn't look like this. It was like a lot of little triangles all piled one on top of the other." "That's a different kind," the Forecaster an- swered, "it's called a tetrahedral kite, and was invented by Dr. Alexander Graham Bell. They will lift a man quite easUy. Owing to the form of construction, they're much heavier and harder to handle and they won't go up as high. The box kites fly higher and more easily. They'll go up even in the lightest wind, and that's quite impor- tant, boys, because you must remember that some- times there's quite a strong wind in the upper layers of the air when there's only a zephyr be- low. As you see, boys, this kite consists simply of four long sticks arranged in a square, with one THE RUNAWAY KITE 167 third of the length at either end covered with a specially treated and tightly stretched muslin." He was working rapidly as he talked, and, be- fore long the kite was assembled, the wire attached and wound on the reel and all was ready for launching. "WiU that wire hold it, sir?" asked Boss, as he noted the extremely fine line that the Fore- caster was using. "Certainly, it's piano wire. It's only a thirty- second part of an inch in diameter, but it will stand a pull of nearly three hundred pounds. That's more than you could pull. More even than Monroe could pull, and he's the strongest of you." "Couldn't I hold one of those small kites, sir?" asked Monroe. "Yes," the Forecaster said, "you could with a well-made hand reel, and if the wind wasn't too strong. But your arms would soon give out. Of course, the pull of a kite depends on the amount of square feet of sail area. Anton," he added, turning to the crippled lad, "you're the mathe- matician of the League, measure that kite and tell us how many square feet of sail area it has." Anton took a foot rule from his pocket and measured the kite rapidly. i68 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "A trifle over thirty-six feet, sir," he said. "I can give you the fractions, if you like." "No, that's near enough," said the Forecaster. "Thirty-six feet of sail area in a fourteen mile wind will lift nearly twenty pounds of wire and, probably, wiU have a pull of about sixty pounds. I don't think you'd care to stand a sixty-pound drag very long, Monroe. We'll let our new reel do the work." "About how high could we make this kite go, sir!" asked Tom. "Does that depend on the wind?" "No," the Forecaster answered, "it depends on the sail area of the kite and the weight of the wire. Ten square feet of sail area will lift three pounds or, a thousand feet of wire. There are over five thousand feet to a mile, and a kite usually ascends at about an angle of forty-five degrees. So, if you allow for sag and so forth, you'd have to put out eight or nine thousand feet of wire to reach a mile, wouldn't you?" "Yes," said Tom, "I guess that's how it would go." "It's an awful lot of line," commented Fred. "Therefore," said the Forecaster, "if ten square feet wiU lift a thousand feet of wire, for THE RUNAWAY KITE 169 eight thousand feet, you'd need eighty square feet of sail area." "Then even the two of these together aren't big enough to go up a mile !" cried Tom. "A mile is pretty high, my boy," said the Fore- caster; "you've never seen a kite go up a quarter as far." "What's the highest flight that ever was made?" queried Tom. "America holds the World's Eecord," was the answer. "The United States Weather Bureau sent up a string of kites at Mount Weather, in Virginia, that ascended higher than four miles and a quarter, 21,385 feet above the reel, to be exact." "How many kites did they use?" Tom asked. "Eight," the Forecaster answered, "with a lift- ing surface of five hundred and forty-four square feet of sail area. There wouldn't have been much chance for you, Monroe, if you'd tried to hold that bunch in your hand. The kites would have picked you off the ground and whisked away with you like a piece of rag tied to the tail of a Japanese kite. There," he concluded as he stepped back, "I think we're ready now. Tom, how's the wind?" 170 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN The oflScial wind-measurer ran up the ladder to his dial, calculated rapidly and answered: "Freshening, sir. It's about seventeen miles an hour, now." "That's all right," the weather expert declared. "Tom, you start her off." "What do I do, sir?" asked the boy. "Just toss the kite in the air," the Forecaster answered. "Don't I have to run with it?" "Not a step, except when the wind is very light. Off with you!" Tom carried the kite about a hundred feet, the line paying out as he went, and waited the word. The boys clustered around the reel excitedly. Monroe went along with Tom. Hex also wanted to follow, but as Eoss was afraid that he might jump at the kite and tear it with his teeth, though in play, he called the terrier back. "Eoss," then said the Forecaster, "you take the time of the flight, and Anton, I think you'd better watch the reel and see that the line doesn't foul." The excitement of the boys grew intense. The box kite looked so unlike any of the kites that they had flown that some wondered whether it THE RUNAWAY KITE 171 would go up in the air. Fred, in his capacity as editor, having seen a picture of a box-kite up in the air, was quite arrogant in his assurances that it would really fly. "Are you ready?" the Forecaster said, watch- ing the whirling anemometer. "Throw!" At the word, Tom gave the kite a light toss in the air, against the direction of the wind, as in- dicated. The kite swayed from side to side, but having four surfaces to the wind, did not swoop and dive like the flat kites. Only half a dozen times did it dart from side to side, then the current of the wind caught it at the right angle and it began to climb up into the air. Tom waved his cap at it with an excited cheer, in which all the boys joined. The first kite-flight of the League was on! Smaller and smaller grew the kite, climbing until it was almost out of sight. The rattle of the reel, as the wire ran out, was music in the boys ' ears. When the half-mile mark on the wire was passed, the Forecaster said: "I think that's enough for a first flight, boys. Better pull her in." Some of the boys begged that the kite might 172 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN be allowed to go up a little higher, but the home- made reel was a trifle rickety and would need strengthening. Winding the reel by hand took quite a long time, but the kite came to the ground, safely, unharmed. From that time on, kite-flying became a passion with the boys. The official measurements of the Weather Bureau kites were secured, together with diagrams showing exactly how the kites were to be built. Before a month was over, every member had a kite, and, as kite-races were to be held, every boy had to build his kite himself, absolutely with- out any outside help. It was nothing less than amazing to see how these kites, all built on the same pattern by different boys, behaved differ- ently. It seemed almost as if the characters of the boys appeared in their kites. Bob's was the slowest and most powerful, Anton's the fastest but behaved poorly in a strong wind, Monroe's was absolutely useless in a zephyr. Tom, who up to that time, had felt that his share in the work of the League was extremely small, now found himself of great importance. He thought of kites in every spare minute of the day and dreamed of kites at night. His father had to forbid the mention of the word "kite" at THE RUNAWAY KITE 173 meal-times. The lad made fliers of every shape and pattern, and his kites were usually so stable that it was upon his model that the meteorograph was fastened which registered the pressure, hu- midity and temperature of the air and the velocity of the wind, according to the request of the young fellow who had sent the League the two first kites. The Issaquena County Weather Review was com- pelled to run a regular weekly feature of "Kite Records " and few were the weeks without a flight. At last came the fateful Saturday, the last Sat- urday in October, the day set for the kite races. Many of the boys had made new kites for the occasion and all had overhauled them. Secret practice flights had been made and the rivalry was keen. What was the wind going to be like? Would the day be fine? It was hinted that Tom had some special secret, but what it was no one knew, unless, perhaps, the Forecaster. The event had been quite widely advertised — had it not ap- peared in the Review! — and the neighborhood gathered as though to a country fair. The roped inclosure was full of people and the dimes which rattled into the dried gourd more than paid up the club's indebtedness for the wire and the ship- ment of the kites. 174 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN There were all kinds of races, races for speed, to see whose kite would reach a certain height the soonest; races for steadiness; races for altitude. Anton created great excitement by sending up one of the puppies in a basket attached to a parachute fastened to a kite which was released when he pulled a string. It was a big parachute and a small puppy, so that no one feared for the pup's safety. Eoss then came forward with his big kite. It could not be entered in the races, because all the kites for racing had been of standard size. "What are those little balls?" one of the boys asked, pointing to bundles covered with paper and attached to a leading string, which were fastened at fifty-foot intervals to the leading wire. "You'll see," said Eoss, and up went the big kite. It flew steadily and well and when a couple of hundred yards above the ground, he made it fast to one of the stakes. Then, while every one watched, he gave the leading string a sharp tug, and then a succession of pulls, breaking loose each of the little bundles attached to the leading wire. And, as the people looked, first one and then another American flag burst out of its covering, the lowermost and largest bundle being a big THE RUNAWAY KITE 175 Stars and Stripes that floated out gallantly above the kite-ground. "Now," said Ross, turning to the Kite-Master, as the boys had begun to call Tom, "out with your secret! What is it?" Tom turned to the Forecaster. "Is it all right for to-day?" he asked. The weather expert looked keenly at the sky, glanced at the weather-vane and the whirling anemometer, and nodded his head. "I think so," he said. "The weather's a little gusty, but this is the time to try. Nothing ven- ture, nothing have ! ' ' At the word, Tom ran off into the house. The boys watched him, wondering what new con- trivance the Kite-Master was going to produce. He reappeared in a moment, carrying with him a new kite, a little larger than the others, but of the same usual pattern. This was not particu- larly exciting. He laid the kite down on the ground and ran into the house again. In a mo- ment, he was out again with another. "Groing to fly them tandem?" asked Eoss. Tom did not answer. He laid that one on the ground and returned into the house again. "Do you suppose he's got three?" Anton asked. 176 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN This was amazing riches, three kites. All the boys knew what a tremendous amount of careful and exacting work went into the making of even one of them. Out darted Tom and laid a third and then a fourth kite on the ground. The four great kites, each of them with the forward part white and the rear section painted black, made a noble showing in the afternoon sun. Ealph, with his ever-ready camera, stepped forward. "Wait a minute," said Tom, "I've got another one," and he darted into the house to get it. He returned a moment later with a fifth kite, similar in every detail to the other four and then, readily enough, posed beside the kites for his picture. Overhead flew the Stars and Stripes. "I want that for the Review," said Fred. "What are you going to do, Tom?" asked Boss. Tom hesitated a moment and then announced: "I'm going to try for a world's record!" The audacity of this startled the boys for a moment, and then a shout went up, while word was passed around the crowd that Issaquena County was going to try for the kite record of the world. The first kite, which no one but Tom and the THE RUNAWAY KITE 177 Forecaster had yet seen in flight, took the air and was off. Tom gave it four hundred feet of line and then fastened his second kite, which he let run up until eight hundred feet more of the line was out. The wind was now stronger, registering twenty-two miles an hour. The three lower kites were run in tandem, about two hun- dred feet of line apart. "When the last of the five kites was still on the ground, the topmost one was out of sight, and the kites were carrying only a fraction of the weight of wire that their lifting surface could bear. "I'm afraid of it, sir," said Tom, his finger on the wire that was running from the reel, "it doesn't feel right." "Probably your lower kite is in gusts," the Forecaster answered. "Let her go up, there may be calmer wind higher. Fasten on your three small ones, now, Tom; you might as well have all the sail area that you can." The eighth kite was started on its journey up- wards. Only those with the strongest eyes now could see the second group of three, the first pair was far out of sight. With Anton carefully measuring the angle of altitude and giving Tom the figures in a low voice, 178 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN Tom, watching the registering apparatus on the reel, suddenly announced: "Two miles up!" The reel rattled merrily as the line was paid out, the brake keeping it at exactly a uniform pres- sure under Tom's skillful guiding. "Two miles and a half !" The crowd began to press around the reel. Nothing was visible in the air, now, nothing but a thin piece of wire leading up into the sky. Had no one known that the kites were there, high above the clouds, it would have seemfed like black magic. Some of the superstitious negroes began to mut- ter among themselves. "Three miles!" The boys yelled in delight. "Up with her, Tom!" cried Fred. "It's the amateur world's record!" announced the Forecaster. The words were scarcely out of his lips when there came a sudden sharp crack. The kite-wire snapped close by the reel and as it curled on itself the coils appeared to tun up into the sky. ' ' Gone ! My kites are gone ! ' ' cried Tom, and a perfect howl of disappointment went up from all the boys. THE RUNAWAY KITE 179 "Gone!" cried the Forecaster, "of course they're gone, but we're going after them!" Throwing himself on the hack of an old mule which a darky had ridden to the kite ground, he started full tilt after the disappearing wire, the whole membership of the League streaming at his heels. CHAPTER VI DEFEATING THE FROST Out across fields and woods, the Forecaster leading on the old mule, the boys followed the direction of the kite. Bob 's pocket compass held them true to their course and Tom's keen sense told of any shift of the wind. The boys ran fast, the mule ran faster, and Lassie and Rex ran faster still. Only Anton, the crippled lad, had stayed behind. Midway up the first hill. Fatty dropped out. His intentions were good, but he was no match for the others in running. Monroe, the athlete of the group, was swinging along in light springy strides ; Bob, the silent, ran heavily and mechanic- ally; whUe Tom, eager for the recovery of his kites, kept to the front with the other two. The Forecaster checked his mule and let the boys come up to him. "It's no use trying to outrace the kites, boys," he said, "they're dropping in any case. But as they were three miles up, they were also three i8o DEFEATING THE FROST i8i miles to leeward, and as they won't fall like a stone but float down gently, it'll be another mile or two at least before they strike ground. So you've a five mile run ahead of you and you'd better settle down into a jog trot, for you can never keep up this pace." The faces of the boys fell at the thought of a five mile run, for while they were all strong and vigorous, cross-country running was not one of their regular sports. Ross turned to the younger boys of the party, calling them by name. "You'd better drop out," he said kindly; "you won't be able to keep it up and there's no use getting yourselves worn out and then having to walk back, half dead. Fred," he continued, turn- ing to the editor-in-chief, "you'd better quit, too." "Not much," answered Fred, "I've got to write this up for the Review." The Forecaster smiled. He liked pluck. "All right, my boy," he said, "come along, if you want to. Still, I think Eoss is right." Over fields and woods they ran, but it was an hour before Bob, lean, wiry and silent, pointed to the sky. "Kite!" he said. i82 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN The weather expert pulled up the mule and drew out his field glasses. "Yes," he said, "that's the string of kites, sure enough. But they're going up, boys, not coming down." "Going up, sir?" exclaimed Tom. "They couldn't be! They must be coming down. All the kites were out of sight when the wire broke." "They have come down, of course," the Fore- caster replied, "but they're certainly going up now. And, what 's more, they 're going up fast. ' ' ' ' But they can 'the!" the boy protested. ' * The wire isn't holding on to anything." "How do you know!" the meteorologist re- joined. "Perhaps the wire has got foul of some- thing. I remember, once, how Eddy of Bayonne had a string of nine kites get away from him. They crossed the water between New Jersey and Staten Island. The owner had to take a train and then a small boat after them. On Staten Island he took another train and then a street ear, and another street car, all the time hanging out of the window, to keep track of the fugitives, which were sailing away merrily." "Chasing a kite with a train and a street-car sounds funny," puffed Tom. DEFEATING THE FROST 183 "On Staten Island," the Forecaster continued, "the wire caught in a telegraph post, and, of course, as soon as the wire held, the kites took the proper angle to the wind and shot up in the air again. Before Eddy could reach the place, the wire chafed through and broke again, but the kites had risen another mile or more. Falling diagonally, they crossed the lower end of New York Bay toward Long Island. Eddy had to take a ferry boat, next, to chase the runaways. He crossed to New York and took the elevated rail- road to Brooklyn. An hour later, he caught sight of the kites again. One of the groups had reached the ground and dragged. That sent the other six up in the air again. They flew over the whole of Brooklyn, and fell again, finally entangling themselves in a telephone wire. "When the owner finally reached them, after a chase of thirty miles, in two States, three of the kites, still undamaged, were flying safely in the air, never having come to ground at all." "I hope mine aren't smashed," Tom said eagerly. The story had given him hopes. On the boys pounded. Fred was at the end of his strength. Eoss, himself, was almost done out, but he felt that, as head of the League, he ought i84 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN to go on. Seeing, however, that the editor-in- chief might really hurt himself unless he gave in. Boss decided to stop. He knew that Fred would give up if he did. " I 've had enough, Fred, ' ' he said at last. ' ' Let the other three go ahead. We can't hope to beat Monroe." The editor stopped, willingly enough. He looked a little longingly at the other three, as they ran on. "I'd have liked to be there, so as to write it up," he announced wistfully. "You can't be everywhere, Fred," Eoss an- swered, and the two boys turned homewards. Monroe, Bob, and Tom, with Monroe leading, swung on their way. Twenty minutes more passed. Tom's heart was beating like a trip- hammer and there was a drawn look about his face which showed that he was nearly done. Bob, who had not uttered a word since he first saw the kite, and who had not varied his pace by a fraction since he began, was jogging along as though he were a machine. Monroe still ran springily and with the jauntiness which betokened the practised runner. Then, suddenly, the Forecaster pointed ahead. DEFEATING THE FROST 185 "There's something caught in that tree!" he said. In another minute the kite wire could be seen. It had hooked its coils into a bale of barbed wire, and in trying to lift this had entangled the bale in the branches. As though he were starting for a hundred yard dash, Monroe sped ahead. Grimly, Bob tried to catch up to him, but it was like a bull-dog chasing a deer. Tom, his face in the tense grin of ex- haustion, struggled bravely, but dropped behind step by step. Monroe was within fifty feet of the tree when a sudden thought struck him. He slowed down, and as Bob caught up to him, said in a low voice : ' ' Tom 's made a great run ! Let him be the first to get there." Bob nodded. As the pace slowed down, Tom, his gait a little staggering, caught up with the other two and passed them. He reached the tree first and looked up. * ' My kites !" he cried. * ' And I got the amateur record!" and he collapsed on the ground at the foot of the tree, worn out but supremely happy. With the approach of winter, kite-flying became i86 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN less popular as a sport, but two or three times a month Tom sent up one of his kites with the meteorograph, and the observations were faith- fully forwarded to Osborne, whose original gift of the two kites had been the stimulus to the Mississippi League of the Weather. The first few flakes of snow turned the atten- tion of the boys to an entirely new line of weather observations. Many and many a time had the boys noticed the strange shapes of snow-flakes, but without paying much attention to them. On the first Saturday after the light snow-fall, how- ever, three different boys brought in rough draw- ings of Star-like and feather-like snow forms that they had noticed. "I've been wondering," said Anton, thought- fully, "what makes snow-flakes take those shapes? Hail comes down in lumps, and rain-drops must be round, because when you see the first heavy drops of a shower they make round blobs on the ground with pointed splashes at the side." "A snow-flake," the meteorologist replied, "is a collection of icy crystals. If you could look at one under the microscope, Anton, you'd see that every little projection that goes to make up the shape of the flake, is a six-sided crystal. You've Courtesy of J. Wilson Bentiey . Snow-flakes from the Lower Regions of the Air. Note the gradual progression from solid to feathery forms, and especially that every elahoratlon maintains the six-pointed crystal type. Courtesy of U.S. Weather Bureau and of J. Cecil Alter, FOREST RANGER IN IDAaO. OBSERVER AMONG THE QDAKING ASPENS. Snow Survey work. DEFEATING THE FROST 187 eaten barley-sugar from a string some time, haven't you?" "Sure!" said several of the boys, and one added, "Mother often makes it." "How does she make it?" queried the Fore- caster. "Melts up some sugar and water and, as when it begins to cool off, she hangs a string in the middle of the pot and the sugar settles on that." "It settles in regular shapes, doesn't it?" "Yes." "Well, those are crystals. When water cools into ice, boys, it does the same thing. Haven't you sometimes seen, after a cold night, a lot of needles shooting out from the sides from a pud- dle?" "Yes, sir, often." ' ' Those are all six-sided crystals. Frost on the window pane is made in the same way. All those designs that look like lace work or trees or ferns are six-sided crystals produced by water-vapor, in the air, cooling and crystallizing on the cold glass. Ice crystals grow from each other quite readily. This is called twinning." "But why are they always so regular?" The Forecaster shook his head. i88 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "You're always expecting everything to be reg- ular, Ross," he said. "They're not regular at all. There are thousands of different forms. The United States is fortunate in having one man who's the world's expert on snow crystals, and he examines and photographs thousands every year and adds, perhaps, two or three new examples each season." "Who's that, sir?" asked Fred. "Wilson A. Bentley, of Jericho, Vermont," the Forecaster answered. "He's made thousands of photographs of snow crystals through a micro- scope. What's more, he's done it for the love of the work. Why don't you send him a copy of the Review, Fred? I'm sure he'd like to see it. Perhaps he might send you some prints of his snow crystals. He 'd appreciate a plate of Caesar 's sunsets and Ealph's clouds, I'm sure." "I'll send them to him right away," the editor answered. "Why is it," queried Anton, "that when snow- flakes fall slowly and only a few of them at a time, they are big, but when there's a heavy snow- storm the flakes are small?" "Because they are manufactured in different layers of the air," the Forecaster answered, "in DEFEATING THE FROST 189 the upper air, eight or ten miles up, where the faintest cirrus clouds are, they are not flakes at all, but tiny needle-like crystals, called spicules. In the depth of the Arctic winter, near the North Pole and especially on the Greenland ice-cap — one of the coldest regions of the world — the wind is full of these spicules, which one can't very well call snow. "Snow-flakes that come from the cold regions of the air, three or four miles high, generally have a solid form. All, of course, show the six-sided form of the snow crystals. Being smaller and heavier in proportion to their surface they fall more quickly. In the layers of the atmosphere, one or two miles high, where the air is not as cold and where the content of water vapor is higher, the flakes have more opportunity to grow as they slowly sink through the air. Snow-flakes that have been formed only a short distance above the ground become large and feathery, the kind of which northern peoples say that 'the old woman of the sky is plucking her geese.' " "I suppose, in the northern part of the coun- try, sir," Ralph suggested, "snow has to be meas- ured, as well as rain." "Certainly," the Forecaster answered, "other- I90 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN wise we wouldn't be able to tell the precipitation of a region at all. There is a regular instrument for it, called a shielded snow-gauge. This is like a rain-gauge, boys, only it stands ten or twenty feet above the ground, to avoid surface drifting. The snow caught is melted and expressed as so many inches of precipitation. Sometimes the depth of snow is measured by thrusting a meas- uring stick down to the ground. "Of course, that's not nearly all that the Weather Bureau has to do with snow. In the northern states, especially of the Pacific Coast, snow surveys are of great importance. The Weather Bureau often sends mer to determine the amount of snow that has fallen over a given area, in order to find out how much water may be ex- pected. This is needed in flood forecasts and irri- gation projects. Some of our men, boys, can tell you thrilling tales of their expeditions on snow- shoes up snow-covered slopes where there is never a trail. "Railroads whose tracks run through the re- gions of heaviest snowfall build snowsheds to keep their lines from being buried in avalanches, and these sheds are built to withstand pressures calculated by the Weather Bureau. Where drift- DEFEATING THE FROST 191 ing occurs and the railroad tracks are being cov- ered with the drifting snow, it is the combined snow and wind records of the Weather Bureau which form the basis for the work of the rotary- snow-plow. "Even so, boys, the value of the work of the Weather Bureau in snow surveys is very small compared with the importance of frost warnings. These save the country tens of millions of dollars every year, especially in the fruit sections." "You mean by smoking them?" queried Eoss. "Father heard about that a couple of years ago and bought a lot of fire-pots for his orchard." "How did he succeed?" asked the Forecaster. "He didn't succeed at all," the boy answered. "There were only two bad frosts that spring, and both times the evening before had been so warm that no one suspected that there would be frost before morning. The one night that he did start the fires, it turned warm towards midnight and we wouldn't have needed the fires any way. Old Jed Tighe, who 's got the biggest fruit farm here, has made fun of Father's fire-pots ever since." "Now, if your father had received the Weather Bureau's frost warnings in advance," the Fore- caster said, "he wouldn't have wasted fuel on the 192 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN night that there wasn't a frost and he wouldn't have let his crop freeze on the nights that the tem- perature really did drop below the danger point. For example, boys, if the League of the Weather had been in existence at that time and could have given good frost warnings, all that crop would have been saved, wouldn't it?" "Yes, sir," said the boys, "it would." "Of course," the Forecaster continued, "a. really progressive fruit-grower ought to make himself partly independent of the Weather Bu- reau. He can put up frost-alarm thermometers." "What are they, sir?" asked Anton. "They're thermometers with an electrical at- tachment, something on the principle of the ther- mostat, which you see nowadays in big buildings. A thermostat is electrically connected with a tiny lever, and when the air of a room gets to a certain heat, the increasing temperature operates a lever and closes the steam pipe which brings the heat. When the temperature falls below a certain point, the lever is released and the steam rises again. The same principle is used as a fire alarm. When the air inside a building rises to a point hotter than it could naturally do, it operates a lever which rings an alarm bell. The frost ther- Courtesy of U.S. Weather Bureau. Ringing the Frost Alarm! Thermometer with electric attachment which wakes the neighborhood when the grip of a cold wave menaces ruin to a fruit crop. Fighting frost in an orchard— night. Copyright by J. Cecil Alter, U.S. Weather Bureau, Cheyenne, Wyo. Fighting frost in an orhcabd— dawn. The pall of smoke prevents evaporation and keeps the air near the ground from freezing temperatures. DEFEATING THE FROST 193 mometer acts exactly on the same principle. When the temperature of the air, near a fruit orchard, falls to within three or four degrees of the point at which the fruit will be harmed, the fall of the mercury breaks an electric circuit which starts an alarm bell ringing in the owner's house, perhaps a half mile away." "I've been wo^^dering," began Anton in his meditative way, "whether it wouldn't cost more to heat all the out-of-doors than it would be to lose some of the fruit." "You haven't got the idea of it at aU," the weather expert said briskly. "It's got nothing to do with heating the whole of out-of-doors." "Then what are the fires for?" "Just to heat a very small section of the air on the ground. Don't forget, boys, that a fruit tree ten feet high may have all the fruit on its lower branches, up to five or six feet, absolutely killed off, while the top branches are unharmed." "How's that?" queried Ross in surprise. "I thought frost came down from on top, and that the higher up you went the colder it would be." "Not at all," the weather expert answered. "Frost comes from down below. When the air is still and clear, the earth loses heat by radia- 194 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN tion. The heat goes up and up and through the air to higher levels, the cold earth cooling the air below. Therefore, on a frosty night, in a region where frosts are rare, or at a time of year when frosts are few, a stiU clear night will cause a belt of cold air perhaps only a few inches in depth, perhaps ten or twenty feet in height, this belt being several degrees colder than the air over- head. "Now, Eoss, you can see that to light huge fires, with the intention of warming up all the air, would be foolish and unnecessary. All that is needful is to heat this lower cold belt of air, a few feet in depth, and only to heat it the three or four degrees necessary to bring it to the warmth of the air above." "But suppose a wind comes up and blows the heat away?" asked Anton. The Forecaster smiled at the question. "If a wind comes up," he answered, "you wouldn't need to use any heat at all, because the wind would mix the warmer air overhead with the cooler air below and there couldn't be any killing frost." "But doesn't it cost an awful lot?" "It costs less than to lose your crop," the DEFEATING THE FROST 195 weather expert replied. "Usually you can figure that a frosty night will take a gallon of oil per tree, or from twenty to twenty-five cents. In a fruit growing section a grower is unlikely to have more than four or five still, freezing nights a year when his crop may be ruined by frost, so that he will spend a dollar or so per tree in protecting his orchard. As there are few fruit trees which bring in a profit of less than ten dollars during the season, and some a great deal more — accord- ing to the nature of the crop — the proportionate expense of heating is small compared with the amount of fruit saved." "Then you think that heating an orchard will save the fruit?" "Absolutely without any question, " the weather expert answered. "And, if the fruit-grower will keep in close touch with the Weather Bureau, he will know when precautions are necessary. Of course, boys, it's especially important for this work that there are a number of co-operative ob- servers, because frost is not a widespread gen- eral phenomenon. You could have a fearful kill- ing frost down in the hollow where Anton's house is, or in the low ground near your house, Ross, and still Tom's place, on that little hill, would 196 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN be quite safe. One of the things that the League of the Weather ought to he able to do this winter and spring is to see that frost is fought. Even when your fathers haven't got regular oil-pots, boys, a few smudges with heavy smoke, drifting over the orchards or the truck fields, if started early enough in the evening may check a freeze." "Why, sir?" asked Eoss. "Smoke isn't hot." "No, my boy. But you remember that I told you that the cold was caused by the radiation of heat from the earth escaping into the air and through it. If there's a steady layer of smoke, like a blanket, floating across the land, the heat radiating from the earth will not have a chance to escape to the upper air. It wiU stay in the lower layer of the air and thus keep it from drop- ping to the killing temperatures of a true freeze. That's what the Indians of the pueblos used to do." In the mild winters and early springs of Issa- quena County, there seemed little reason for the boys of the League to trouble themselves with frost warnings, but, at the Forecaster's urgency, the boys kept wide awake for it. It happened, though, that the lads had talked so much about their frost protection plans that several of the DEFEATING THE FROST 197 fanners decided to get some oil-burning fire-pots for use that spring, in the event of a freeze. Jed Tighe, however, one of the few people of the neigh- borhood who had shown but a perfunctory interest in the League, laughed to scorn the idea of buying the fire-pots, as Fred had suggested in a recent issue of the Review. Even Jed Tighe read the little sheet every week, in spite of his alleged scomfulness. One afternoon, when Eoss was over at the club- house, where he spent so much of his spare time, Anton pointed out that the conditions were ripe for a killing frost. "The hottest to-day was sixty-two degrees," he said, "and you remember Mr. Levin told us that one wasn't ever safe unless the maximum was sixty-four. There's not a cloud in the sky any- where and there's practically no wind, and what there is, Tom told me over Bob's wireless, is from the northwest, and that's the worst quarter. I was just goiag to take the dew-point when you came in." ' ' Let 's do it now, Anton, " said Eoss. * ' Got the cup?" For answer the crippled lad took down from the shelf a small tin mug. It was already bright 198 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN and shining, but he polished it until it looked like silver. "I've got the jug of ice- water ready," he said. Pouring some tap water into the cup, and fill- ing it about one third full, he began to stir it round and round with a thermometer. The mer- cury in the tube quickly dropped, until it read 50°, showing the temperature of the water, "Now, Eoss," said Anton, "pour in the ice- water slowly." Ross picked up the pitcher and began to let the water trickle in a tiny stream into the bright tin cup. Anton went on stirring. Steadily the mercury descended in the tube as the water in the cup grew colder and colder. Eoss poured in more and more slowly. Then suddenly, quite suddenly, while both boys were watching, the brightness of the tin cup clouded over, as though with a sudden fog. Anton drew out the thermometer and looked at it. "The dew-point's only thirty-four," he cried, "and as we Ve got to figure frost at three or four degrees lower, it'll be so cold that there won't be any fog to stop a freeze. Eoss, it's just the night for a killiag frost. What do you think we 'd better do?" DEFEATING THE FROST 199 The older lad hesitated. "If you don't mind, Anton," he said, "I'll stay to supper, and we'll see what your night observa- tions say." By evening the threats of a frost were even more definite and the two boys consulted what had best be done. "I can easily get Father to start his fire-pots," said Ross, "we got them all fixed up this winter. Bob's dad has got some fruit, and we can warn him by wireless, and we could get a lot of the fellows together. I don't want to make a mis- take, though. If we suggest that the fire-pots ought to be started and then it doesn't freeze, we'll hurt the League a lot more than we'll help it." "I wish we could talk it over with Mr. Levin," said Anton, "but he's down with one of his sick spells and we oughtn't to disturb him. Whatever we do, we've got to do it on our own." "Let's get Bob here," suggested Eoss, "he's got a steady head." "And Fred," Anton added, "he's read all the Weather Bureau stuff on Frosts, I know. He's been writing his articles for the Review from them." 200 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN "All right," said Eoss, "I'll slip over and call for Fred and you get Bob on the wireless and ask him to come over here." An hour later, the four boys were poring over the weather maps, comparing notes and observa- tions and trying to decide whether they ought to do anything. Fred, always ready to take up some- thing new, was for plunging ahead, on the chance that there might be frost, but doubted whether a frost was likely. Eoss, as head of the League, was a little timid and afraid to make a serious mistake. Anton was firmly convinced that a kill- ing frost would come before morning. Bob settled it. "Better for the League to be laughed at than chance having the crops ruined," he said. This turned the scale, and from a discussion of the advisability of frost warning, the question turned to the best way of letting people know. It was decided that Bob should return to his wire- less, get as many of his connected operators in touch as possible and get them to warn their dis- tricts. Fred, who had persuaded his father to install a 'phone, was to get in touch with the few farmers in the district who had telephones and ask them to spread the warning. Anton was to bor- DEFEATING THE FROST 201 row his father's buggy and drive to points not reached in any other way, and Ross was to go on his pony. By this means, the county would be fairly well covered. The boys were just separat- ing, when Bob stopped. "Jed Tighe!" he said. "Oh, let the old skinflint go," said Fred, "there isn't any way of reaching him, any way." "That doesn't seem quite fair," said Eoss, dubiously, "he's got more fruit than anybody else." "It isn't fair," said Bob. "I've been wondering," said Anton, "if we oughtn't to notify Jed Tighe somehow.'* "We've got to," said Bob. "And only get rowed at for our pains," de- clared Fred. This was so likely that all the boys felt the truth of the remark and there was a moment's silence. "Play square," said Bob. "Jed Tighe has never done anything to help the League," said Fred. "I don't see why we should do anything to help him." "Well," said Eoss, "we can't take that stand. Any chap that needs help ought to be warned. 202 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN If you saw his house on fire, Fred, you wouldn't hesitate to tell Jed Tighe, would you?" "No," answered the editor doubtfully, "I wouldn't, but this seems different, some way. We might be making fools of ourselves and he 'd have the laugh on us for ever." "Better be laughed at for trying to help than blamed for not trying," repeated Bob. This was unanswerable and to Eoss was de- puted the dubious pleasure of notifying the hard old farmer. As the boys separated, Anton looked at his watch. "It's going to be all hours before you get home to your own place, Eoss," said Anton, "it would be a shame if your fruit ran a risk by your being late. Your dad hasn't got a 'phone." "That's easily fixed," said Eoss. He went to the door and whistled, Eex came bounding up. Eoss went to the table and scribbled on a piece of paper: * ' Frost to-night ! Light the pots ! " This he fastened securely to the Airedale's collar. "Home! Eex!" he said. The terrier looked up in his master's face to make sure that it was an order, and not a game. DEFEATING THE FROST 203 and evidently being satisfied, started down the road at a long sweeping trot. About a hundred yards away he stopped and turned round to look. Eoss was expecting this, so raised his arm and pointed. Quite satisfied, Eex swung round to the road again and galloped out of sight. The boys separated at once, Bob to his wireless outfit, Fred to his 'phone. Anton, however, did not get in the buggy, as arranged. Instead, his father, knowing that the lad was frail, packed him off to bed and drove in the buggy himself, warn- ing all his neighbors. Eoss, on his little pony, riding like another Paul Eevere, covered many miles. It was well on towards midnight when he reached Jed Tighe's house. The dogs broke out into a furious barking, and, wakened by their tumult, the old farmer with his thitt scraggly beard, came to the door. "What do you want, coming to my house at this hour of the night ? " he began, not recognizing his visitor. "It's me, Eoss Planford," the boy answered. "I came to tell you that it's going to freeze tonight." "That's a nice reason for getting a man out of his bed! Besides, it ain't so. There's never 204 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN been a frost in this county later 'n April 3." He snapped his fingers at the boy. "That's how much you know about it." Boss found it hard to keep down his temper at this discourtesy. "It's going to freeze, just the same," he re- torted. "Well, let it freeze, and you, too." The old farmer began to close the door. "But your fruit 'U all be frosted!" "Save it yourself, then," snapped Jed Tighe and slammed the door. Boss dug his heels into his pony and started for home. The ride had taken him six miles out of his way and he was anxious to get home to make sure Bex had delivered his message. Still, as he rode, his pony's hoofs seemed to beat out the message: "Save it yourself, then!" Why should he? Again — Why shouldn't he? The gallop came down to a trot and then to a walk, as Boss brooded over what he should do. As it chanced, his path lay near one of the younger members of the League, who had bought a small DEFEATING THE FROST 205 wireless outfit, similar to that of Anton's. Eoss reined in. As at Jed Tighe's, the hounds announced his arrival and the farmer poked his head out of the window. He recognized the boy at once. "What's up, Eoss?" he asked. "Anything wrong?" "There's a killing freeze coming tonight, Mr. Lovell," the boy answered. "We're warning every one with fruit trees to start a smudge going. And, Mr. Lovell, can I use the wireless for a minute?" "Of course. Much obliged for the tip, my boy, I '11 get right up and attend to things. Of course, I don't know as it'll do any good, if it's a goin' to freeze ; to my way o' thinkin' it's goin' to freeze and nothin'U stop it. But no one can say that Tim Lovell was too lazy to try an' save his crops. ' ' Eoss tied his pony and hurried up to his friend's room. In a minute the wireless was buzzing and presently, back came the answering buzz. Georgie sat up in bed and listened. "I'll go with you to Jed Tighe's," he said, "that is, if Father '11 let me." "Try it," said Eoss, "if he will, you can jump on the pony behind me." 2o6 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN * Permission was readily granted, for the farmer was grateful for his own warning, and in less than ten minutes' time the two boys were galloping back along the frosty road to the old skinflint's place. "Aren't you going to tell him about the frost?" asked George, as Eoss turned his pony off on the windward side of the orchard. "I have told him," answered Eoss, and he re- lated the story of the meeting, gathering together dry twigs and branches as he talked. George waxed indignant. "I'd let him go to grass!" he said. "That's what I thought at first," Eoss replied, "but if you saw a chap drowning, you'd jump in and save him without waiting to find out whether he was delirious and didn't want to be saved." "Of course," George answered, "any fellow would jump in." "That's what we're doing, we're jumping in." Minutes were precious and the two boys worked with all their might, gathering piles of twigs and dry sticks. There was a heap of straw and stable manure a field or two away, and Eoss rolled sev- eral wheelbarrow loads of it across the fields. After two hours' work, the boys had a row of DEFEATING THE FROST 207 little piles of fuel, covering one quarter of the length of the orchard. "You light the first one, Georgie," said Ebss, wanting to give the younger lad the honor, for he had worked pluckily and hard. The lad bent down and touched a match to the first pile. It blazed up merrily, and just as the smoke began to rise, the wheels of a buggy were heard along the road. A moment later Bob jumped out. "Hello!" was all he said. He cast one glance at the piles and commenced to work with a will. Presently a shout was heard and Ealph, the photographer, appeared on his wheel. "There's a bunch more coming," he said, and he, too, set to work. "Frost!" said Bob suddenly, as he pointed to a small glistening crystal of hoar frost on a blade of grass. The boys cheered. Their prophecies were justi- fied, and- they plugged at the work harder than ever. Bob, who feared neither Jed Tighe's tongue, nor anything else, opened the farmer's stable, harnessed and hitched up a team, and com- menced to draw the manure and straw to the edge 2o8 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN of the orchard. It was now three o'clock and the frost was beginning to form rapidly. "We can't save the rest of it," said Boss, as he looked longingly at the far quarter of the or- chard; "we've got all we can do to keep going what we've got." Four o'clock and five o'clock passed. The sun rose. Promptly at five-thirty, his regular hour, old Jed Tighe got up and walked to the window to see what kind of a day it was. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, astonished. There, on his land, using his team of horses, was a group of eight boys, their forms only oc- casionally seen through the blanket of smoke which drifted sluggishly over and through the trees of his orchard. The ground was white with hoar frost and the lower branches of the trees in the yard had frost crystals on them. The farmer dressed hurriedly and went out. A dead silence fell along the boys as the tall spare form of the farmer was seen approaching. Georgie and some of the younger ones shrank back. Ross stood his ground. Bob lounged for- ward. Jed Tighe said never a word. He east a shrewd glance at the fruit trees in the orchard which had DEFEATING THE FROST 209 been nearest to the fires and the smudges, and then, still silently, walked down the entire line of the fires until the end of it, and beyond. On the unprotected stretch, the frost lay thick. He stood thoughtfully a moment and then walked back up the line, more slowly, until he came to where Eoss stood, watching him. "So you did save it, eh?" "Yes, Mr. Tighe," the boy said, "I did." "And I suppose you think I told you to?" "Yes, you did." "I'm not any fonder of being made to look like a fool than most men are," the farmer said, "but I'm fair." He turned on his heel and started to walk away. Over his shoulder he snapped: "Twenty-five per cent of the value of the dif- ference between the fruit on the protected and the unprotected parts of my ground goes to the League. And I'll let my boy, BiU, join you." CHAPTER VII CLEABING /N INNOCENT MAN The saving of Jed Tighe's crop did more to establish the reputation of the Mississippi League of the Weather than anything which the boys had done since the League was organized. Although Jed Tighe was stern by nature, he was thoroughly fair. He had no hesitation in placing the credit where it belonged, and the boys soon found that they had no stronger ally than the hard-spoken old farmer. Even his friendship, however, did not prepare the boys for the farmer's sudden arrival at their club-house, on a Saturday afternoon, two weeks later. He drove up in a ramshackle old buggy, driving two of the finest horses in the county. Skinflint though he was, he loved horses. He came into the club-house and eyed the boys stand- ing around the table. "I'm going to ship some potatoes to Chicago," he said abruptly, without any preface. "I want 210 CLEARING AN INNOCENT MAN 211 to know whether they'll be safe from freezing on the way." There was a moment's dead silence. The boys had not bargained for such a point-blank demand for help, and it took them off their, feet. One looked at the other and several shuffled uncom- fortably. The Forecaster watched the lads keenly, interested to see how they would face the issue. Boss spoke first. "Well, Mr. Tighe," he said hesitatingly, "we haven't done any figuring on the weather outside this neighborhood, as yet." This cautious attitude did not appeal to Fred, who always wanted to plunge in head first. "Sure we can, Koss!" he declared. The president of the League looked inquiringly at his mainstay, the silent Bob, and, in answer to his unspoken question, the other nodded. "We could try it, of course, if you wanted us to," agreed Eoss. "Ain't I asking you to?" said their visitor, sharply. "But suppose we don't get it just right?" Eoss queried. "That's the chance I'm taking," the farmer re- plied. "But there's no doubt that you know a lot 212 WITH THE U. S. WEATHER MEN more about it than I do, and your guess is likely to be nearer tban mine. Those potatoes have just got to go to Chicago some time next week, anyway." "It's a new stunt for the League," said Ross again, hesitating, but the editor-in-chief broke in impatiently. "We might as well tell what we know," he said. "We do know that there's a cold wave on the way." * ' There is ? How cold ? " the farmer asked, with a sudden quickening of interest. "Cold enough to freeze potatoes, at any rate," assured Fred. "I was looking at the Weather Map only about an hour ago. Oh, it's going to be cold, all right." S, "How do you know?" Jed Tighe demanded. "If I'm gora' to act on what you boys say, I'd like to know how you find out." "I've been wondering," put in Anton thought- fully, "if it wouldn't be a good idea to have Mr. 1?ighe go over the map with us. He might be in- terested in figuring it out, and then if we didn't hit it just right, he'd know we'd done our best, anyway." 'Well," rejoined the farmer grimly, "if I've <