Joe Bodley was behind the bar briskly serving customers. He nodded familiarly to Janice, and said:
"Bad storm, Miss. Glad to see you. You ain't entirely a stranger here, eh?"
"Shut up, Joe!" commanded Mr. Parraday, as Janice flushed and the schoolmaster took a threatening step toward the bar.
"Oh, all right, Boss," giggled the barkeeper. "What's yours, Mister?" he asked Nelson Haley.
A remarkable clap of thunder drowned Nelson's reply. Perhaps it was as well. And as the heavy roll of the report died away, they heard a series of shrieks somewhere in the upper part of the house.
"What in good gracious is the matter now?" gasped Lem Parraday, hastening out of the barroom.
Again a blinding flash of light lit up the room for an instant. It played upon the fat features of Joe Bodley—pallidly upon the faces of his customers. Some of them had shrunk away from the bar; some were ashamed to be seen there by Janice and the schoolmaster.
The thunder discharged another rolling report, shaking the house in its wrath. The rain beat down in torrents. Janice and Nelson could not leave the place while the storm was at its height, and for the moment, neither thought of going into the dining room.
Again and again the lightning flashed and the thunder broke above the tavern. It was almost as though the fury of the tempest was centered at the Lake View Inn. Janice, frankly clinging to Nelson's hand, cowered when the tempest rose to these extreme heights.
Echoing another peal of thunder once again a scream from within the house startled the girl. "Oh, Nelson! what's that?"