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Show I WHEN LIGHTNING STRIKES I ! By Allen Wishert TT WAS one of those nights not , j At for man or beast, or any oth- r er animal. The lightning flashed and crashed, the thunder rolled . and roared, the rain fell in sheets, and the wind came In rugged puffs causing the house to shudder. The Watson family, mother, father, fa-ther, son and daughter, and Grandpa Grand-pa Watson were huddled In the living room of their farm home, fearing what the next flash or puff may bring. The wind was blowing from the direction of the Buell farm several f hundred yards to the southwest. Jim Watson stood by a window, eyes glued on the Buell home. If : lt disintegrated he would, at least, f have a few seconds to prepare for 23 the worst. j A blinding flash accompanied by ' a terrific crash. That one had I struck close, the acrid fumes drift ed into the living room. Then as suddenly as It had begun, the storm subsided, the silence was I depressing, a bad omen. Every- 1 I body looked at everybody, nobody I moved, a harsh jangling and ev- Jerybody moved. All realized it was the wall telephone. Who In the I world would be calling at a time ' I like this? Again; no mistaking the A ri"g: One long, two shorts. i over the wires, he motioned foi all to keep quiet, then realized 11 was the stillness roaring In hli ears; "Hello-o!" "Is that you, Mr. WatsonT" the party asked, faintly. "Yes, yes," he called, holding the receiver closer. "Why call at a time like this? Say It's urgent? Who Is this? Who? Oh, Elmer Buell'i niece. What you say? Repeat Re-peat that. Your Uncle Buell? What? Struck by lightning? Killed? How'i that? Struck a haystack near the barn. Barn in danger? I'll be right over." Nervously replacing the receiver, receiv-er, Jim Watson turned to his fa ml-ly ml-ly and said: "That was Elmer's niece, said her uncle had been struck and killed by lightning, also, a hay stack was on fire- and the stock and barn is threatened." He was speaking fast, excitedly, while drawing on raincoat and hat. "They need help. Benny, you come with me, rest of you remain here." Arriving at the Buell home, they rushed inside. Bessie was alone; "Where's the victim?" asked Watson, Wat-son, removing his hat and looking look-ing about. "Out in the horse lot," replied Bessie, who didn't, in the least, "No need answering," warned Jim Watson, a distinct vibration ' in his tone. "Wires have become crossed." Again it jangled; One long, two t shorts. "It's our ring," said Mrs. Wat- jj son. "I can't believe crossed wires J are that Intelligent." 'i The storm had died completely, , all was peace and quiet. Again one long, two shorts. 'j "Well," Jim Watson speaking. I "Whoever is on the other end hasn't any fear. Stand back, all, i I am going to answer it." Before anyone could check his action, he lifted the receiver, held it away from his ear, and shouted: , "Hello, Hello!" A feminine voice was coming seem disturbed. "You're sure he is dead?" "Certainly." Jim Watson started for the rear door, a step on the stairway leading lead-ing to the upper floor, caused him to pause and stare. Jim Watson had never believed in ghosts. He shook his head, wiped his eyes and looked again; Elmer Buell, hand on rail, was descending those stairs. It couldn't be, Elmer Buell was lying dead out in the horse lot. Turning to Bessie, his voice high pitched, he screamed; "You you said a stroke of lightning light-ning had killed your uncle Buell!" "Surely, Mr. Watson." replied Bessie, calmly. "You misunderstood misunder-stood me, I distinctly said: a stroke of lightning had killed uncle's un-cle's mule." |