CHAPTER V
MORE HARD LUCK
That afternoon the two boys went back to the cornfield to resume thecultivating that had been interrupted by the runaway. It seemed hotterthan ever, and there was scarcely a breath of wind.
"Whew! This is fierce!" exclaimed Will. "I can't stand it!" and hemopped the perspiration from his forehead.
"Oh, it might be worse," observed Jed.
"Worse? I don't see how."
"You might be out on the Nevada desert that Mr. Harrison was tellingabout."
"That's so. Well, I'm glad I'm not. But, what do you think of him,anyhow, Jed?"
"I think he's quite a character."
"So do I. I wish I had some of the gold he dug."
"Same here. If we had that we wouldn't have to be working in this hotcornfield. Maybe we'll find some, by and by, Will."
"Find some? How?"
"Why, go after it, to be sure. Do you know, I have an idea I'd like tobe a gold miner."
"A heap you know about gold mining!"
"That's all right. Every one has to learn. I guess he didn't knowanything about it at first," said the stout youth.
"Perhaps not. But what chance have we to go out West in the miningcountry?"
"None, I guess, Will, but I can't help thinking of it. I certainly wouldlike to go West and be a gold miner. Think of digging gold instead ofpotatoes."
"There's only one thing about that," replied his brother, who was not soinclined to look on the rosy side of things, "when you're digging forpotatoes you go to a field where potatoes have been planted, and whenyou dig, you know you're going to get some."
"Well?"
"Well, when you dig for gold you have to go it blind. It may be thereand it may not. Oftener not, and you have all your digging for nothing."
"So you do here, sometimes, when the droutht or too much rain has ruinedthe potato crop," retorted Jed. "I guess it's about an even thing,Will."
"Maybe so. But I guess dad wouldn't let us go West."
"Probably not. Come on, we'll do ten more rows each, and then it willbe time to go home to supper. My! But I'm glad this day will soon beover! It's been a scorcher!"
It had been very hot, and the unclouded sun, beating down on the twolads in the cornfield, seemed to fairly be trying to shrivel them up.
"I'm done!" exclaimed Jed at length, as he reached the end of the tenthrow, which he had set as his "stent."
"So'm I," added his brother a minute later. "Come on, Pete. You'removing slow on account of the run you had this morning. Hark! What'sthat, Jed?"
"Sounded like thunder."
The two brothers listened a moment. Off in the west there was a dullrumble, where some copper-colored clouds had gathered.
"It is thunder!" exclaimed Will. "Say, I do believe it's going to rain.Won't dad be glad!"
"He sure will," spoke Jed.
"But I'm afraid it's too late to do any good," went on Will.
"Nonsense! There you go again. Always looking on the dark side ofthings. Why don't you say the rain will do all sorts of good?"
"I suppose I'm not built that way. But I hope it does."
"Of course it will. Come on. Let's hurry up. I don't want to get wet."
"I'll be glad to," declared Will. "Seems as if I never was so hot. I'dlike to get in a tubful of ice water and stay there an hour or so."
As the lads unhitched the horses from the cultivators, leaving themachines in the field, in readiness for the work on the next day, andstarted homeward with the steeds, the rumble of thunder became louder,and there were flashes of lightning in the western sky.
"She's a-coming!" cried Jed. "It'll be a corker, too, after this longdry spell."
The boys had scarcely reached home before it began to rain. First therewere only a few large drops, each the size of a half dollar. There wasno wind, and the crack of thunder seemed like the discharge of heavyguns.
Then the trees began to bend before the blast. The wind howled throughtheir branches. The dust from parched fields and long dry highways rosein big clouds, making a yellow haze as the sun shone through it. Thenthe sky was quickly overcast with a yellow cloud. The wind blew harder.Louder crashed the thunder and then, with a rushing, hissing sound, therain fell in torrents.
"Just in time!" cried Gabe Harrison, as the boys, having put the horsesin the barn, rushed up on the side porch of the farm house. "This isgoing to be a great shower. I knew my old corn wasn't aching fornothing."
"I guess your corn isn't any gladder of the rain than the corn we'vebeen cultivating all day," retorted Jed. "It was almost parched with theheat."
"This will be a godsend to us farmers," spoke Mr. Crosby, as he came outto see the storm. "It would have been worth a lot more had it comesooner, but it will save part of my crops for me."
There was another crash of thunder, and it seemed as if several clouds,right overhead, opened and let out their flood of rain, so fiercely didthe big drops dash down.
"Nettie, are all the windows shut?" asked Mrs. Crosby of her daughter.
"Yes, ma. I looked to 'em when I saw the shower coming up. They're allclosed."
"Are you sure you shut the one in my bedroom?"
"Yep."
"I'm afraid you didn't. I'm going to look, and make certain."
If there was one worry Mrs. Crosby had, it was that the windows were notshut when a storm came up. She was afraid of the rain coming in, and shewas also afraid of lightning, for, like many country women, she believedthe electrical current only waited for the chance of darting in an openwindow to wreak damage. So she hurried off to oversee the work herdaughter had said was already done.
The storm became worse. The farmer and his two sons, who, with the oldminer, were watching it from the side porch, had to go in, as a shift ofthe wind sent the rain into their shelter.
"Now if this will keep up all night, we'll have water enough," commentedMr. Crosby.
"Do you need as much as that?" asked Gabe.
"Yes, and more too. Half the springs around here are dried up. Our welldidn't have much more water in it, and the creek was lower than I eversaw it before."
They went inside the house. Mrs. Crosby finished her supervision of thewindows, and came into the sitting-room, where the others were gathered.
"Jed," she called to her eldest son, "don't sit so close to the window."
"Why not?"
"You might be struck. Lightning always comes in a window."
"But this one is closed."
"That doesn't matter. Come away, do, please."
Not wanting to worry his mother, Jed obeyed. Hardly had he moved backwhen there came a terrific crash. It was so loud, and sounded so close,that, for a moment, every one in the room was stunned.
"That struck somewhere around here!" cried Mr. Crosby, as soon as therolling thunder sound had died away.
"I should say so!" added Will. "You can smell the sulphur."
There was a noticeable odor in the room, like when an old-fashionedmatch is lighted.
"Oh, dear! I'm afraid it hit the house!" cried Mrs. Crosby. "We'll allbe killed!"
"If it struck the house we wouldn't be sitting here," replied Jed. "We'dbe knocked off our chairs. Come on, Will, we'll go see what damage itdid."
Following that one terrible clap the storm seemed to let up a bit,though it rained harder than ever. The two boys, taking heavy coats,from nails in the kitchen, went out. No sooner had they reached theporch than Jed cried:
"It struck our cow barn! The place is on fire! Come on and get the cowout!"
His cry was heard in the sitting-room, and his father and the miner ranout. They did not need to be told what had happened. The cow shed, asmall structure, near the barn, but not attached to it, was in flames.
"We must save the cow!" exclaimed Mr. Crosby. "She's worth fiftydollars!"
The men and boys rushed to the little stable. The lightning had torn outone complete side, and it was burning fiercely in spite of the drenchingrain. But one look
inside showed Mr. Crosby that more bad luck had cometo him. Though the rain had arrived in time to save part of his crops,the lightning had struck the cow, and the poor creature was stretchedout dead on the floor of the small stable.