hin'
doin', and mighty soon, too. We're goin' to beat it for the bunkhouse
some soon, and you'd better come along with us. Chances are you won't
have time to make the ranchhouse. When a norther once gets started,
things happens pretty fast, so ef you don't want to get soaked an' run a
good chance o' gettin' blown away you'd better come along with us, all
three o' you."

A "norther!" The boys had heard tales of the fury of these storms, and
now they would have an opportunity to judge for themselves the truth of
these stories. They had always believed them exaggerated, but the haste
and anxiety of the ranchmen told them that something out of the ordinary
was expected.

The air was close and oppressive, and not a breath of wind rustled the
dry prairie grass. The boys mopped their foreheads, and hurried along
with the men. By this time the entire sky was overspread with a funeral
pall, and it was so dark that they could hardly see. When they were
within a few hundred yards of the bunkhouse they heard a weird whining
noise far off over the prairie, and suddenly a little puff of cool air
struck against their heated faces.

At this moment Sandy, followed by several cowboys, dashed up, and they
all leaped from their horses. "We'll jest have time to make the
bunkhouse," he said; "the wind will reach us in another minute. Lively's
the word, boys."

He and the others with him who had horses dashed behind the bunkhouse,
and tethered the frightened animals where they would be sheltered in some
measure from the wind and rain. They dashed around the end of the
building and ran through the door, preceded by the party with which the
boys had started from the corral. The door of the bunkhouse was slammed
shut just in the nick of time.

With a shriek and a roar the norther was upon them. The wind blew with
terrific violence, and rain dashed in great sheets against the windows
and drummed on the roof with a noise that made it difficult for the men
to hear the sound of each other's voices. The building quivered and
trembled as the fierce gusts shook it in their grasp, and it seemed as
though it must be torn away from its foundations. But it had been stoutly
built with an eye to resisting just such storms, and held firm. The air
was filled with grass, bits of planking, and other wreckage that it had
picked up in its furious course. The boys gazed out the windows,
wondering mightily at the tremendous force of the gale, which closely
ap