CHAPTER XIX
DISASTER THREATENS
"Who's that scurrying down the road toward Pringleton?" demanded Blodger in the lull before the tornado struck Sunnyside.
They all saw the man hurrying along the county road with the tails of his coat over his head. Jim Larry, the boy, shrieked:
"I believe that is Ad Banks. What's he doing around here? I thought he was working over at Loomisville."
Nobody gave the running figure much attention. The phenomenon of the coming tornado quite filled their minds.
The whine of the wind rose to a demoniac shriek. Hiram turned to shout to his companions and a sudden gust seemed to take his breath so completely that he could not utter a sound.
He staggered, crouching, and seized Orrin Post who was actually being swept down the yard by the force of the gust. Jim Larry had scuttled to cover. Blodger stood in the doorway of the shack yelling something that Hiram could not understand.
The trees across the road and up the hillside bent and writhed as though seeking to uproot themselves. Into the air sprang a shed on the Pringle place, and when it had crossed the road and was about ten feet above the ground it fairly exploded as though a bomb had been set off inside of it.
Then the tornado struck Sunnyside—struck the place in all its fury.
There was not much rain, but what there was, blown by this terrible gale, cut like a knife. Loose boards began to fly over the yard. Everything the wind could get under seemed to shoot right up into the air. There was a cloud of light litter sucked up into the churning black mass that was flying over the farm.
Hiram and Orrin had managed to get into the lee of the shed. The wind thundered against it, shaking the structure as though to tear it loose from its foundations. But being low it did not offer the resistance of a higher structure, and perhaps was as safe from disaster as any building about the farm.
"Unless we got into the cellar," Orrin managed to make Hiram hear.
"Seems as though this wind would scoop us right out of a cellar," shouted Hiram. "Hey! Look there!"
He pointed to the corner of the barn where the silo stood. The round tank positively shook under the recurrent blows of the wind!
"She's going!" yelled Orrin in dismay. "She's going!"
"Like fun she is!" returned the other young fellow. "Those bands and cables should have been put on. But as the tank's empty and there is nothing to hold her down, she'll shift on her foundation if we don't do something."
"We can't help it, Strong," objected Orrin.
"We can try," returned Hiram forcefully. "You get Blodger and Jim. I'm going over there. There are two sets of fastenings for the cables on the barn and the barn won't blow down—that's a sure thing."
"I don't know that it is a sure thing," grumbled Orrin. "You'll take your life in your hands if you go out there."
But Hiram had already started. The wind did not come steadily, and he ran stooping between gusts to the silo. The wire cables, cut as he knew to proper length and wound on a spool, lay with some other material against the barn foundations.
Of course, Hiram knew they could not put on the iron bands; but if they could pass a couple of the length of cable around the silo and fasten them to the barn Hiram was sure it would aid in keeping the tank on its foundation.
He looked back across the yard and saw Orrin propel the frightened Jim out of the doorway of the shack; and he had to fairly drag Blodger out as well. Both the old man and the boy knew these tornadoes too well to desire to be out-of-doors.
Hiram was endeavoring to unwind the first cable alone when the others reached him. He had fastened the end of the twisted wire through one of the rings in the side of the barn about eight feet from the ground. They unwound the entire length of this first cable, struggling against the wind, and carrying the end around the silo.
Here the fastening ring was too high to be reached without the aid of a ladder. The carpenters had left their various ladders behind the new house. Hiram spied them, and, shouting to Orrin to come with him, started against the wind for that place.
They had actually to tack like a boat in a heavy seaway to reach the ladders. And coming back, each bearing an end of the ladder selected, they were blown to the ground half a dozen times.
This was the most awful gale Hiram, at least, had ever been out in. And for the four of them to raise the light ladder was one of the most serious tasks one could imagine.
Meanwhile the silo was weaving back and forth in a threatening manner. Hiram had selected a ladder long enough to enable him to reach the upper ring intended for the second cable. Two of his helpers had to hold the ladder steady, however, while the other handed him the end of the wire cable. It took more than half an hour of hard fighting to secure both ends of the two wire ropes.
Two of his helpers had to hold the ladder steady while the other handed him the end of the wire cable.
The silo rocked back and forth, the vibrations seeming, of course, much greater than they really were. But the cables—or good workmanship—held it in place. The four got back to the living shack and cowered therein in darkness for another two hours before the wind really ceased blowing. The rain had stopped long since, and beyond the hurrying shreds of cloud the moon and stars appeared.
Drenched as everything had been by the first tempest, the ground was now fast becoming dry. The water drained away quickly from the knoll on which the Sunnyside buildings stood.
As soon as the danger from the big wind was over, however, Hiram had thought for another thing. He lit a lantern and said to Orrin:
"Come on down the road and take a look."
"Who for? That Ad Banks? If he's drowned in the ditch I wouldn't much care."
"I'd forgotten all about him," confessed Hiram. "But come on. I want to look at something."
Curiously Orrin followed him while the old man and the boy sought their bunks. The rain had washed and rutted the road deeply. The ditches were carrying the surplus water off, however.
At the first cross-drain through the recently planted corn and pea field Hiram flashed the light of his lantern into the ditch. A stream of water the size of his leg was spurting from the opening.
"Cracky! Look at that!" ejaculated Orrin. "Why, Strong, the darned thing works!"
"Of course it works. Didn't I tell you it would?" replied the young farm manager.
They went on along the road, and at every such opening the yellow flood poured forth. That particular twenty acres of Sunnyside Farm would never be sour or lumpy to work as long as Hiram's simple underdraining scheme continued to work so successfully as it was now doing.
They were about to turn to go back to the house when Orrin clutched Hiram by the arm and pointed toward Yancey Battick's place.
"What's the matter down there do you suppose?" he asked, with anxiety.
There was a sudden glow against the sky, seemingly rising from behind Battick's buildings. Then a long streamer of flame bannered into the air above the treetops.
"It's a fire! Something's burning!" declared Hiram.
The two lads set off on a hard run down the road toward the old Pringle homestead which Yancey Battick occupied.