"A mile is pretty high, my boy," said the Forecaster; "you've never seen
a kite go up a quarter as far."

"What's the highest flight that ever was made?" queried Tom.

"America holds the World's Record," was the answer. "The United States
Weather Bureau sent up a string of kites at Mount Weather, in Virginia,
that ascended higher than four miles and a quarter, 21,385 feet above
the reel, to be exact."

"How many kites did they use?" Tom asked.

"Eight," the Forecaster answered, "with a lifting surface of five
hundred and forty-four square feet of sail area. There wouldn't have
been much chance for you, Monroe, if you'd tried to hold that bunch in
your hand. The kites would have picked you off the ground and whisked
away with you like a piece of rag tied to the tail of a Japanese kite.
There," he concluded as he stepped back, "I think we're ready now. Tom,
how's the wind?"

The official wind-measurer ran up the ladder to his dial, calculated
rapidly and answered:

"Freshening, sir. It's about seventeen miles an hour, now."

"That's all right," the weather expert declared. "Tom, you start her
off."

"What do I do, sir?" asked the boy.

"Just toss the kite in the air," the Forecaster answered.

"Don't I have to run with it?"

"Not a step, except when the wind is very light. Off with you!"

Tom carried the kite about a hundred feet, the line paying out as he
went, and waited the word. The boys clustered around the reel excitedly.
Monroe went along with Tom. Rex also wanted to follow, but as Ross was
afraid that he might jump at the kite and tear it with his teeth, though
in play, he called the terrier back.

"Ross," then said the Forecaster, "you take the time of the flight, and
Anton, I think you'd better watch the reel and see that the line doesn't
foul."

The excitement of the boys grew intense. The box kite looked so unlike
any of the kites that they had flown that some wondered whether it
would go up in the air. Fred, in his capacity as editor, having seen a
picture of a box-kite up in the air, was quite arrogant in his
assurances that it would really fly.

"Are you ready?" the Forecaster said, watching the whirling anemometer.
"Throw!"

At the word, Tom gave the kite a light toss in the air, against the
direction of the wind, as indicated.

The kite swayed from side to side, but having four surfaces to the wind,
did not swoop and dive like the flat kites. Only half a dozen times did
it dart fr