"'Read the wind velocity,' my chief said to me.
"I focused a glass on the recorder, holding a lantern in my other hand.
"'Ninety miles an hour, sir,' I said.
"'It'll be a good deal more than that,' he answered. 'I only hope we don't have a repetition of 1900.'"
"That was the worst ever, wasn't it, sir?" asked Anton.
"It was the most destructive storm that the United States ever saw," the Galveston weather observer answered, "but, as a storm, it wasn't nearly as violent as the one we've just been through."
The speaker, who had his arm in a sling and who was still frail and weak from the injuries he had received during the hurricane, looked round at the boys. Being the Forecaster's nephew, he had come to his uncle's house to recuperate and the work of the League had fired his imagination.
"Tell them of the 1900 storm first," said the Forecaster.
"You tell them, Uncle," his nephew replied; "you remember that better than I do, and then I'll tell the boys my adventures in last week's storm."
"Yes," put in Fred, "you tell us, Mr. Levin."