"Elijah Doxey?" cried Mrs. Macy. "Why, is he off on a cyclone? No one ever told me."
"No, Elijah in the Bible, you know. The Elijah as was caught up in a chariot of fire. Mr. Kimball says there ain't a mite of doubt in his mind but that it was a tornado. I guess Mr. Kimball told the truth that time, for it's all in the Bible."
"That's true," said Gran'ma Mullins. "I remember Elijah myself. He kept a tame raven, seems to me, or some such thing."
"Oh, Susan!" Mrs. Lathrop cried out suddenly. "There's a fun—" Her voice failed her; she raised her hand and pointed.
Susan turned quickly, and her face became suddenly gray-white. "It can't be a cy—" she faltered.
With that all four women jumped different ways at once.
"Where shall we go?" shrieked Mrs. Macy. "Oh, saints and sinners preserve us! Oh, Susan, where shall we go?"
But Susan Clegg stood as if paralyzed, staring straight at the funnel-shaped cloud.
Gran'ma Mullins started for her own house; Mrs. Lathrop sprang up and clasped the piazza post nearest; Mrs. Macy grabbed her skirts up at both sides and faced the cyclone just as she had once faced the cow.
The funnel-shaped cloud came sweeping towards them. The town was between, and a darkness and a mighty roar arose. Buildings seemed falling; the din was terrible.