Helen in the Editor's Chair Part 7

"What will this do to the _Herald_?" Helen whispered to Tom.

Her brother nudged her hard.

"Don't let Mother hear you," he replied. "There is nothing we can do now except hope. The _Herald_ building may not be destroyed."

Helen dropped to the floor and her head bowed in prayer. Their father's illness had been a blow and to have the _Herald_ plant destroyed by a tornado would be almost more than they could bear.

The noise of the tornado was terrific and they felt the earth trembling at the fury of the storm G.o.ds.

Helen had seen pictures of towns razed by tornadoes but she had never dreamed that she would be in one herself.

Suddenly the roar of the storm lessened and Doctor Stevens cautiously opened the door of the storm cellar.

"We're safe!" he cried.

They trooped out of the cellar. The tornado had swung away from Rolfe without striking the town itself and was las.h.i.+ng its way down the center of Lake Dubar.

"It will wear itself out before it reaches the end of the lake,"

predicted Jim Preston.

"I don't believe any houses in town were damaged," said Doctor Stevens.

"A hen house and garage or two may have been unroofed but that will be about all."

"How about the farmers back in the hills?" asked Helen.

"They must have fared pretty badly if they were in the center of the storm," said the doctor. "I'm going to get my car and start out that way.

Someone may need medical attention."

"Can I go with you?" asked Helen. "I want to get all the facts about the storm for my story for the _Herald_."

"Glad to have you," said the doctor.

"Count me in," said Margaret Stevens. "I've joined Helen's staff as her first reporter," she told her father.

"If you want to go down the lake in the morning and see what happened at the far end I'll be glad to take you," suggested Jim Preston. "I'm mighty grateful for what you and Tom did for me and I'll have the Liberty ready to go by morning."

"What about the Flyer?" asked Tom.

"I'll have to fish her out of the lake sometime next week," grinned the boatman. "I'm lucky even to be here, but I am, thanks to you."

Doctor Stevens backed his sedan out of the garage and Helen started toward the car.

"You can't go looking like that," protested her mother. "Your shoes and hose are wet and dirty and your dress looks something like a mop."

"Can't help the looks, mother," smiled Helen. "I'll have to go as I am.

This is my first big news and the story comes first."

CHAPTER V _Reporting Plus_

Clouds which followed the terrific wind unleashed their burden and a gray curtain of rain swept down from the heavens.

"Get your slickers," Doctor Stevens called to the girls and Helen raced across the street for her coat and a storm hat.

"Better put on those heavy, high-topped boots you use for hiking," Tom advised Helen when they had reached the shelter of their own home.

"You'll probably be gone the rest of the afternoon and you'll need the boots."

Helen nodded her agreement and rummaged through the down stairs closet for the st.u.r.dy boots. She dragged them out and untangled the laces. Then she kicked off her oxfords and started to slide her feet into the boots.

Her mother stopped her.

"Put on these woolen stockings," she said. "Those light silk ones will wear through in an hour and your heels will be chafed raw."

With heavy stockings and boots on, Helen slipped into the slicker which Tom held for her. She put on her old felt hat just as Doctor Stevens' car honked.

"Bye, Mother," she cried. "Don't worry. I'll be all right with the doctor and Margaret."

"Get all the news," cautioned Tom as Helen ran through the storm and climbed into the doctor's sedan.

Margaret Stevens was also wearing heavy shoes and a slicker while the doctor had put on knee length rubber boots and a heavy ulster.

"We'll get plenty of rain before we're back," he told the girls, "and we'll have to walk where the roads are impa.s.sable."

They stopped down town and Doctor Stevens ran into his office to see if any calls had been left for him. When he returned his face was grave.

"What's the matter?" asked Margaret.

"I called the telephone office," replied her father, "and they said all the phone wires west of the lake were down but that reports were a number of farm houses had been destroyed by the tornado."

"Then you think someone may have been hurt?" asked Helen.

"I'm afraid so," admitted Doctor Stevens as he s.h.i.+fted gears and the sedan leaped ahead through the storm. "We'll have to trust to luck that we'll reach farms where the worst damage occurred."

The wind was still of nearly gale force and the blasts of rain which swept the graveled highway rocked the sedan. There was little conversation as they left Rolfe and headed into the hill country which marked the western valley of Lake Dubar.

The road wound through the hills and Doctor Stevens, unable to see more than fifty feet ahead, drove cautiously.

"Keep a close watch on each side," he told the girls, "and when you see any signs of unusual damage let me know."

They were nearly three miles from Rolfe when Margaret told her father to stop.

"There's a lane to our right that is blocked with fallen tree trunks,"

she said.

Doctor Stevens peered through the rain. A mail box leered up at them from a twisted post.

"This is Herb Lauer's place," he said. "I'll get out and go up the lane."