If there was one worry Mrs. Crosby had, it was that the windows were not shut when a storm came up. She was afraid of the rain coming in, and she was also afraid of lightning, for, like many country women, she believed the electrical current only waited for the chance of darting in an open window to wreak damage. So she hurried off to oversee the work her daughter had said was already done.
The storm became worse. The farmer and his two sons, who, with the old miner, were watching it from the side porch, had to go in, as a shift of the wind sent the rain into their shelter.
"Now if this will keep up all night, we'll have water enough," commented Mr. Crosby.
"Do you need as much as that?" asked Gabe.
"Yes, and more too. Half the springs around here are dried up. Our well didn't have much more water in it, and the creek was lower than I ever saw it before."
They went inside the house. Mrs. Crosby finished her supervision of the windows, and came into the sitting-room, where the others were gathered.
"Jed," she called to her eldest son, "don't sit so close to the window."
"Why not?"
"You might be struck. Lightning always comes in a window."
"But this one is closed."