formed--snow which warms up as it passes through hotter air en route
to the ground, and--"

"That will be quite enough, Bettis," Chief Botts said. "I am a
weatherman too, you know. You don't have to tell me the most elementary
of--"

"In this case, Chief," Bettis persisted, "the biggest inversion layer
you ever saw kept the surface air down and brought the cold upper air
very close to the surface. Result: the snowflakes didn't have a chance
to melt, not even to freezing rain. Result: snow!"

"The chances of that happening," said Chief Botts coldly, "are about one
in a billion. Aren't they, Sloman, dear fellow?"

"One in two billion," Johnny said.

"He _is_ modest," Chief Botts told the staff. "He seems so unconcerned."

Just then Maxine came into the little office. The look of awe on her
face had been replaced by one of sheer amazement. "Well, I checked it,
Chief," she said. "Wait until I tell Jo-Anne!"

"Won't you please tell us first?" Chief Botts asked.

"Yes, sir," said Maxine, and read from the memo pad in her hand. "Since
coming to work for the Bureau, Johnny Sloman has once every ten days
made our official forecast. I have checked back on his forecast, Chief,
as you directed. Johnny has made fifty-five forecasts. While only one of
them--startlingly--has called for snow in July--every single one of them
has been right."

There was a shocked silence. "But--but the Weather Bureau average is
only eighty-eight percent!" Harry Bettis gasped.

"You mean," Chief Botts corrected him, "eighty-eight percent is the
figure we try to foist on the unsuspecting public. Actually, the Weather
Bureau averages a bare seventy-five percent, and you know it."

"But Sloman's got a hundred percent accuracy--up to and including snow
in July," Harry Bettis said in a shocked voice.

"It was only an accident," Johnny said in a mild voice. "I didn't mean
to write snow."

"Accident, smaccident," said Harry Bettis. "It was no accident with a
record like that. You have the uncanny ability to forecast weather with
complete accuracy, Johnny-boy. You realize what that means, old pal?"

"I'd better call Washington and tell them," Chief Botts said, but Harry
Bettis held his arm while Johnny mused:

"I guess I realize what it means, Harry. That is, if you're right. No
more getting wet on picnics. Because I'd know. I'd know, Harry. No more
going to ball games and having them rained out on you. No more being
caught by a thunderstorm at