by Jay Williams
Danny approached a tall, thin man who was chewing on a soggy cigar. “Excuse me, mister,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“What are they going to seed with—carbon dioxide or silver iodide crystals?”
“With seeds, buddy,” said the man shortly. “What else?”
Irene snickered.
The man looked them over with a grin. Then he went on, “Listen, why ask me? I’m only the audience. Go ask the weatherman—out there on the field.”
The three turned to follow his pointing finger. Their eyes opened wide, and their mouths fell open in astonishment.
On the field, near the long, dark, shiny, central landing strip, stood two Mr. Elswings!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT Takes Flight
“What did I tell you?” blurted Joe. “Split personality!”
Irene rubbed her eyes. The two Mr. Elswings were exactly alike, except that one of them wore a floppy panama hat, and the other carried an umbrella. “It can’t be,” she said. “Not split personality. That means two people in one body.”
“Maybe he split the other way,” said Joe. “Two bodies—one people.”
“He’s twins,” Danny said. “Can’t you see? They look alike, but one of them has a mouth that turns down and the other is smiling. Let’s go out there.”
He glanced about hastily. “I’ll leave IT right here,” he said, “alongside the wall of the hangar. I’d rather not go running around the field with it. Nobody’ll touch it here.”
He drew the wagon close to the hangar, and then he and his friends walked out to the twin weathermen.
The Elswings were looking up at the lowering gray clouds. Nearby stood half a dozen other men, all equally intent. Above could be heard the buzz of a plane’s motors. Vanderbilt sat on his haunches near the twins. As the three friends approached, the big dog got up to meet them. Irene patted him and he panted heavily and smiled a greeting.
The scowling Elswing was saying, “It’s a fake, I tell you! The farmers and businessmen who put up the money for this operation have just spent it for nothing.”
“Tut, tut, Ralph,” said the smiling Elswing. “You’re always looking on the dark side of things. The seeding operation may work very well. It depends on a lot of different factors—the temperature of the clouds, the degree of moisture, the wind—you know that. It’s a gamble worth taking, though, isn’t it? We do need the rain badly. And if we do nothing, these clouds may simply evaporate and leave us as dry as ever.”
“Fiddlesticks, Frank!” Ralph scoffed.
One of the other men, a heavy-set fellow with a deeply tanned face, put in, “I agree with Frank. We farmers are suffering most. Anything’s worth trying, I say.”
Another man—he was a local businessman named Roland Glenn—said, “Right. The drought is certainly not good for business. And look at me: I haven’t been able to shave properly in days.”
“I think you’re all crazy,” said Ralph Elswing, jamming his hands in his pockets. “My brother Frank is a visionary. If it rains as a result of this seeding nonsense, I’ll —I’ll eat my new panama hat.”
He turned away, and then he saw the three young people. “Ha!” he barked. “Here are some more of your friends, Frank—children!” Frank beamed at Danny and the others, raising his umbrella in salute. “Why, hello, kids,” he said. “Don’t mind Ralph. When we used to eat apples, as boys, he always ate the green ones and it made him sour.”
Looking from one to the other of the twins, Danny blinked. They had the same round, rather pear-shaped faces, and the same curly hair; they wore the same dark suits and blue neckties. Only their expressions distinguished them. “Gee,” Danny said, “am I glad to find out there are two of you. We were worried.”
“Didn’t you know?” Frank looked surprised. “Why, I thought Eddie, my nephew, would have told you.”
“We aren’t all that friendly with Snit—with Eddie,” said Joe.
“Listen!” Mr. Covey, the farmer, held up his hand for attention. “I think the plane’s coming down.”
The sound of the motors had grown louder. The men moved back a little way from the strip. In a moment or two, a small blue-and-white airplane dropped from the clouds, swung round in a curve, and then hummed down to make a landing. It rolled to a stop, and two men got out.
The pilot was named Abe Clark. Danny had met him once before, with the Professor. He owned several planes, and ran a small air service, flying freight, dusting and spraying crops, and taking aerial survey photographs. He walked toward the waiting men, pushing back his cap and shaking his head.
“No luck,” he said. “I’m afraid conditions aren’t right for it.”
“Now are you satisfied?” said Ralph, turning to Frank with a short laugh. “You and your umbrella!”
Frank merely smiled. “Are you certain you used enough dry ice?” he said to Clark.
The pilot nodded. “I wish we had been able to fly our SuperCub. Unfortunately, it’s being repaired. This Tri-Pacer is a little more difficult to use for a job like this: it has no tank, for one thing. We have to push the door open to throw out the pellets. But I’m sure we scattered plenty.”
“Maybe the particles weren’t small enough,” suggested Mr. Glenn, the businessman.
“No, I don’t think it was that. You know, conditions have to be just right for cloud-seeding, and even then it doesn’t always work. The Elswings can tell you about that. We still don’t know everything about the weather by a long shot.”
“Well,” said Frank, “how about trying it just once more?”
“Ridiculous!” Ralph barked.
“I’ll try if you say so,” said Clark. “Can’t tell—it may work.”
“Go ahead,” said Mr. Covey. “I say, try it again. What about the rest of you?”
The other men, who had all contributed money toward the experiment, nodded. “Okay with me,” said one of them.
“We’re all agreed,” said Mr. Glenn.
Clark pulled his cap down. “All right. Come on, Harve. Let’s wind it up again.” They got back into the airplane. Soon the propeller was turning. They taxied down the strip and turned around.
“We’d better get out of the way,” said Mr. Covey. The group moved over to the other side of the strip.
Danny and his friends went along, staying close to Frank Elswing. Irene held Vanderbilt’s collar. The big dog paced beside her like a pony. His tongue hung out and he had a pleased simper on his face.
As they all turned round to watch the plane, Danny caught hold of Joe’s arm. “Do you see what I see?” he said. “Look over there—by the hangar.”
“It’s Snitcher,” said Joe. “What’s he up to?”
Snitcher had edged up close to the hangar wall. He was glancing all around, as if looking for someone. Suddenly he bent down and caught hold of the handle of the wagon. He began to walk toward the back of the hangar, pulling IT along.
“Hey!” Danny shouted. “Drop that!”
“Let’s get him!” yelled Joe.
But Irene acted first. She let go of Vanderbilt’s collar, pointed to Snitcher, and at the top of her voice cried, “Fetch, Vanderbilt! Fetch!”
Vanderbilt uttered a joyous bark. He shot across the field and seized the back of Snitcher’s belt in his teeth. Then he started back, pulling the struggling boy by the belt.
Suddenly everything seemed to happen at once, very rapidly, like a speeded-up motion picture.
As Vanderbilt dragged Snitcher, Snitcher dragged the wagon. The airplane had revved up and had begun to move.
Irene screamed, “Vanderbilt! Hurry!”
Snitcher let go of the wagon. Free of the extra weight, Vanderbilt lumbered across the strip and joined Irene. He stood, holding the howling Snitcher, and wagging his tail so that a cloud of dust arose.
But the wagon
, with the Professor’s machine on it, stood directly in the path of the rising plane. The pilot either did not see IT—which was not very large—or thought he was above it. But Danny could see that the wheels had not quite cleared the top of the ray machine.
“Oh, no!” he gasped. “It’s going to hit.”
He covered his eyes.
An instant later, Joe tugged at his arm. “Danny—Danny!” he quavered. “Look!” Fearfully, Danny opened his eyes. The plane was above their heads now. And dangling from one of its wheels, caught by the loop of wire which Mr. Krantz had so carefully made, was the Professor’s machine.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Beautiful Rain
“Stop that plane!” Danny blurted, quite without thinking how impossible this was.
“What on earth’s the matter?” asked Frank Elswing.
Irene, Danny, and Joe all tried to tell him at once. He held up his hands helplessly, and at last cried, “Quiet! For heaven’s sake, one at a time.”
They fell silent. Then, for the first time, everyone could hear Snitcher’s plaintive voice. “Hey, get me loose, will you?” he whined.
They swung round on him. Vanderbilt still had a firm grip on his belt and he was unable to free himself, or even to reach round and hit the dog.
“Let you loose?” Danny repeated. “It’s all your fault. If anything happens to that machine, you’ll pay for it.”
“What machine?” Frank asked.
“You know,” said Danny. “You’ve seen it. The one I told you about—”
“You mean your invention that makes it possible to condense water out of the atmosphere?” Frank hid a smile, and tried to look grave. “Dear me. That is serious.”
“What kind of nonsense is this?” said Ralph Elswing.
“It isn’t nonsense,” said Irene. “And even if it were, Snitcher still had no right to try to steal the machine.”
“Snitcher?” Frank looked puzzled.
Before he could go further into the matter, Snitcher blubbered, “Uncle Frank, make Vanderbilt put me down. Stop talking, for gosh sakes, and get me out of this. Uncle Ralph—” Vanderbilt was looking cheerfully from one to the other, waiting for orders. Irene said, “Poor little puppy. Is ’um getting tired from the weight of Snitcher?”
“Poor little puppy,” Joe repeated, with a disgusted air. “Is ’um getting sick from the taste of Snitcher?”
“What is this ‘Snitcher’ business?” asked Ralph.
“They evidently don’t think too highly of Eddie,” said Frank in a dry tone. “I can’t say I blame them, if he really did try to steal their machine.”
“He did,” said Danny angrily. “He was trying to get even—
“I didn’t do anything!” Snitcher bawled.
“Oooh! How can you say such a thing?” said Irene.
They all began to talk at once again, arguing, scolding, explaining. In the midst of the noise, there came a loud snapping sound.
Snitcher’s belt had broken, and he fell sprawling on the ground. Picking himself up, he ran, holding his pants and weeping with rage and embarrassment, across the field and disappeared behind the hangar.
Vanderbilt uttered a short, quizzical bark, as if to say, “What now?”
“Good boy,” said Irene, patting his head. “No, don’t kiss me—you’ll get me all wet.”
“Wet?” Danny repeated. “Hey! I just felt a drop.”
There was a sudden, profound silence.
“He’s out of his mind,” growled Ralph. “No, he’s not,” said Mr. Covey, the farmer. “I felt one, too.”
They all stared at the soft, heavy gray of the clouds. The silence spread over the whole airfield, and everywhere people gazed upward.
There was no doubt about it. Fat drops of rain were falling, spattering on the landing strip and puddling the dust. More and more fell, and suddenly it was really raining.
A deep, heartfelt cheer went up from the crowd.
“It worked!” yelled Mr. Covey. “Oh, you lovely cloud-seeding! It’s sprouting! Oh, you beautiful rain!”
Mr. Glenn shouted, “Yippee!” Forgetting his dignity, he tilted his head back to let the drops fall into his mouth.
The president of the bank seized the hands of the town librarian and danced around with her in the rain. Other people shook hands, cheered, capered about, and laughed. It was as if the whole crowd had abruptly gone mad.
The three young people, although they were happy it was raining at last, were more sensible. When it began to pelt down, they ran across to the hangar and stood just inside. From this vantage point, they watched the excitement slowly die down as the others also took shelter.
Danny pointed. Out on the field Frank Elswing still stood, grinning and holding up his umbrella. Next to him sat Vanderbilt, with all but his tail under cover. And close by, with the rain streaming from his head, was Ralph Elswing. He was slowly tearing his hat to shreds, scowling furiously, and stuffing the pieces in his mouth.
As the three friends stared, the roar of a plane’s engines came to their ears.
“Here comes Mr. Clark,” said Irene. “I’ll bet he’s happy the cloud-seeding worked. I hope he doesn’t smash the Professor’s machine when he lands.”
Danny shook his head miserably. “That’s not Mr. Clark. He’s flying a Piper Tri-Pacer. What we hear is a twin-engine plane.”
He squinted through the downpour. Out of the clouds swooped a silvery passenger plane. It bounced on the runway, and rolled to a stop, turning in toward the hangar. Its door opened and several people got out and ran for the airport office with their coat collars turned up.
But one of the passengers did not run. He looked about at the rain and at the joyful townspeople, and smiled benevolently. He wiped his glasses, and then started for the office at a deliberate walk, as if he were enjoying the warm, delicious summer shower.
It was Professor Bullfinch, home in time for lunch after all.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Whatever Goes Up—
Joe slumped back against the wall. “Danny,” he said. “Suddenly I don’t feel so good.”
Danny was pale. Irene, biting her lip, said, “What shall we do, Dan?”
“That’s easy,” said Joe. “Let’s go home and hide in a closet. And lock the door. And die.”
Danny straightened, squaring his shoulders. “There’s only one thing to do,” he said.
“You mean just die?” said Joe. “And never mind about going home or getting into a closet?”
“No. It’ll be my fault if the machine is smashed. I’m going out to tell the Professor.” Danny took a deep breath. He walked out into the rain. After a moment’s hesitation, the other two followed him.
He went up to the Professor, swallowed hard, and then said, “Hi, Professor Bullfinch.”
“Why, Danny,” said the Professor happily, “did you come to meet me? That was very thoughtful of you.”
“Yes.” Danny’s throat seemed to be plugged up. Then he said, “Er—nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
The Professor chuckled. “Now, that’s an interesting statement. On the basis of observation, and without detailed research, it would appear that you’re wrong because it’s raining. But on the other hand, since the rain is so badly needed, perhaps it is nice weather after all.”
“Yes,” said Danny. “Listen, Professor. I wanted to—”
“I know, I know. You’re anxious to learn how my meeting with the chairman of the Academy of Scientific Research came out. The results were excellent! I have just time to go home for a bite of lunch, and then I must return to Washington on the first plane I can catch this afternoon. They want to examine my transmitter without delay. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Danny simply groaned.
“Dear me,” said the Professor, looking worried. “I appreciate your c
oming to meet me, but perhaps if you don’t feel well—”
“Professor Bullfinch,” Joe put in, clearing his throat. “On the basis of observation and without detailed research, I would say that we’re all getting soaked. Can’t we go in where it’s dry?”
The Professor nodded. “A practical man is always welcome in the field of science.”
Just then, the two Elswings, now both under the umbrella, came by. They had made up their quarrel and they nodded to the Professor, for they both knew him.
“Ah, Frank,” said Professor Bullfinch, “it’s good to see you. And you, Ralph. Can we go into the weather station with you, and phone for a taxi?”
“Certainly,” said Frank. “Come along.”
He led them to the weather station. When they got inside and were shaking the rain from their clothing, he turned to his brother with an exclamation of annoyance.
“I do wish you weren’t so pessimistic, Ralph,” he said. “You were so sure it wouldn’t rain that you left the windows open. Now look at the place. Everything’s sopping wet.”
To add to the general wetness, Vanderbilt chose that time to shake himself, and for a moment the room was full of flying spray.
“Get that blasted hound out of here,” Ralph snarled.
“Don’t be so mean,” Irene said, putting her arms around Vanderbilt’s neck. “How can you send the poor little thing out into the storm?”
Vanderbilt rolled up his eyes, trying to look poor and little. Ralph snorted, and then snapped on an air conditioner that was set into one of the windows.
“All right, all right,” he said. “At least we can cool the place off a little. It’s so damp and hot in here, we’re likely to die of tropical fever.”
The Professor chuckled. “Well, if you don’t mind,” he said, “I’ll just phone for a cab. It’s urgent that I get home at once.”