"Everything is all right at the house, Mr. Strong," said the boss carpenter to Hiram. "The windows are in and the roof is tight at last. If it rains it can't do us any harm."
"Say!" exclaimed the young farmer. "How about if a big wind came up? Those clouds over yonder look ugly."
"Oh, no baby tornado is going to do the house any damage," declared the boss, following his men into the bus.
"How about the silo? Suppose something happens to it?"
"Oh, that'll be all right. Anyway, it is too late to put those bands on now."
"Or the wire stays?" cried Hiram as the automobile started.
"Pshaw! You are an old Betty, Hi Strong!" sang out one of the carpenters as the machine rolled out of the yard. "I don't believe it will rain enough to lay the dust."
However, that prophecy went by the board before Hiram and his helpers got the chores done at Sunnyside that evening. They ran for the shack as the big drops of water began to fall. The drops soon turned to sheets of wind-driven rain that slatted against the walls of the shed like sleet.
In the midst of the supper preparations Orrin opened the door to look out. He stared through the thinning rain toward the south.
"She's letting up, boys," he said confidently, and then turned to look across the road and up the hillside. Immediately his voice changed and the cry he uttered was one of positive fear.