Her brother nudged her hard.
“Don’t let Mother hear you,” he replied. “There is nothing we can do now except hope. The Herald building may not be destroyed.”
Helen dropped to the floor and her head bowed in prayer. Their father’s illness had been a blow and to have the Herald plant destroyed by a tornado would be almost more than they could bear.
The noise of the tornado was terrific and they felt the earth trembling at the fury of the storm gods.
Helen had seen pictures of towns razed by tornadoes but she had never dreamed that she would be in one herself.
Suddenly the roar of the storm lessened and Doctor Stevens cautiously opened the door of the storm cellar.
“We’re safe!” he cried.
They trooped out of the cellar. The tornado had swung away from Rolfe without striking the town itself and was lashing its way down the center of Lake Dubar.
“It will wear itself out before it reaches the end of the lake,” predicted Jim Preston.
“I don’t believe any houses in town were damaged,” said Doctor Stevens. “A hen house and garage or two may have been unroofed but that will be about all.”