"For my camera!" he answered, shouting so as to be heard above the noise of the wind. "I'm going to film this—too good a chance to lose."
"But you—you may be hurt!" she faltered.
"I'll take a chance," he replied, as he turned into the house.
Into the cyclone cellar rushed the frightened members of the film company, as well as the farmer's family and helpers. The wind was howling and shrieking, and several crashes told of further damage being done to the buildings.
Russ, in spite of the commands of Mr. Pertell, set up his camera to get pictures of a cyclone in actual operation. The bending, and in some cases breaking, trees showed the great force of the wind, and the unroofing and demolishing of small outbuildings gave further evidence of the power of the storm.
Russ took his position in an open spot, where he would be in less danger, and got picture after picture, showing the retreat into the underground place of refuge.
The wind was so strong that he had to force the legs of his camera tripod deep into the earth to prevent the apparatus from being blown over.
With a crash the roof of one of the smaller barns was sent sailing far away in the air, and Russ got a fine view of this, though he narrowly escaped being hit by a piece of wood.
"Russ, come in here!" called Mr. Pertell, through a crack in the trap door of the cyclone cellar. "I forbid you to risk your life any further."
"Just a minute!" begged the operator.