Some of the girls were so frightened that they ran in from the recreation ground before the gong rang. The heavens were overcast and the trees before the schoolhouse began to writhe in the rising wind.
The first heavy drops were falling when Bobby, who had been excused by Miss Carrington to do an errand during the recess, turned the corner and faced the sudden blast. It swooped down upon her with surprising power, whirled her around, flung her against the fence, and then, in rebounding, she found herself in another person’s arms.
“Oh, dear me! Excuse me—do!” gasped Bobby, blinded for the moment and clinging to the person with whom she had collided. “I—I didn’t mean to run you down.”
At that instant there was a blinding flash followed by a roll of thunder that seemed to march clear across the sky. Bobby felt this girl whom she clung to shrink and tremble at the sound. Now, Bobby herself was not particularly afraid of thunder and lightning, and she immediately grew braver.
“Come on!” she said. “We’ll get wet here. Let’s run into the boys’ vestibule—that’s nearest.”
The boys’ yard was empty; indeed, the afternoon session had been called to order now in all the classrooms. Bobby and the strange girl ran, half blindly, into the graveled yard and up the steps.
Just as they entered the vestibule the downpour came. The flood descended and had they been out in it half a minute longer the fugitives would have been saturated.
“Just in time!” cried Bobby, attempting to open the inner door.
“Oh! I can’t go in there,” stammered the strange girl.
“Nor I guess I can’t, either,” said Bobby, half laughing, half breathless. “It’s locked—and the wind is blowing the rain right into this vestibule. Come on! Let’s shut this outside door.”