"A mile is pretty high, my boy," said the Forecaster; "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 Record," 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 lifting 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?"
The official 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.