"Oh, Tom! Do you know I believe there is a tree afire over
yonder," she cried, pointing.
"A tree afire?"
"Yes. I saw it smoking."
"My mercy me!" exclaimed Tom again. "What do you mean?"
Nan told him about the mystery. The fact that a column of smoke
arose out of the top of the dead tree seemed to worry Tom. Nan
became alarmed.
"Oh, dear, Tom! Do you really think it was afire?"
"I, don't know. If it was afire, it is afire now," he said.
"Show me, Nan."
He turned the horses out of the beaten track through the brush
and brambles, to the edge of the open place which had been heaped
with sawdust from the steam-mill.
Just as they broke cover a vivid flash of lightning cleaved the
black cloud that had almost reached the zenith by now, and the
deep rumble of thunder changed to a sharp chatter; then followed
a second flash and a deafening crash.
"Oh, Tom!" gasped Nan, as she clung to him.
"The flash you see'll never hit you, Nan," drawled Tom, trying to
be comforting. "Remember that."
"It isn't so much the lightning I fear as it is the thunder,"
murmured Nan, in the intermission. "It just so-o-ounds as though
the whole house was coming down."
"Ho!" cried Tom. "No house here, Nan.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202