r was getting
fairly warmed up to his work, an interruption came in the shape of a
sharp, eager shout from the lips of Waldo Gillespie.

"Look--look yonder! What a funny looking cloud that is!"

A small clump of trees growing upon a rising bit of ground interfered
with the view of his brother and uncle, for Waldo was pointing almost
due southeast; yet his excitement was so pronounced that both the
professor and Bruno hastened in that direction, stopping short as they
caught a fair sight of the object indicated.

A mighty mass of wildly disturbed clouds, black and green and white and
yellow all blending together and constantly shifting positions, out of
which was suddenly formed a still more ominous shape.

A mass of lurid vapour shot downwards, taking on the general semblance
of a balloon, as it swayed madly back and forth, an elongating trunk or
tongue reaching still nearer the earth, with fierce gyrations, as though
seeking to fasten upon some support.

Not one of that trio had ever before gazed upon just such another
creation, yet one and all recognised the truth,--this was a veritable
tornado, just such as they had read in awed wonder about, time and time
again.

Neither one of the brothers Gillespie were cravens, in any sense of the
word, but now their cheeks grew paler, and they seemed to shrink from
yonder airy monster, even while watching it grow into shape and awful
power.

Professor Featherwit was no less absorbed in this wondrous spectacle,
but his was the interest of a scientist, and his pulse beat as ordinary,
his brain remaining as clear and calm as ever.

"I hardly believe we have anything to fear from this tornado, my lads,"
he said, taking note of their uneasiness. "According to both rule and
precedent, yonder tornado will pass to the east of our present position,
and we will be as safe right here as though we were a thousand miles
away."

"But,--do they always move towards the northeast, uncle Phaeton?"

"As a rule, yes; but there are exceptions, of course. And unless this
should prove to be one of those rare ex--er--"

"Look!" cried Waldo, with swift gesticulation. "It's coming this way, or
I never--ISN'T it coming this way?"

"Unless this should prove to be one of those rare exceptions, my dear
boy, I can promise you that--Upon my soul!" with an abrupt change of
both tone and manner, "I really believe it IS coming this way!"

"It is--it is coming! Get a move on, or we'll never know--h