devastation.

"Heading direct for the Olympics!" declared Professor Featherwit,
digging the sand out of his eyes and striving to clean his
glasses without removing them, clinging to tiller and camera
through all. "What a grand and glorious guide 'twould be for
us!"

"If we could only hitch on--like a tin can to the tail of a dog!"
suggested Waldo, with boyish sarcasm. "Not any of that in mine,
thank you! I can wait. No such mighty rush. No,--SIR!"

There came no answer to his words, for just then that swooping
air-demon turned to vivid fire, lightning playing back and forth,
from side to side, in every conceivable direction, until in spite
of the broad daylight its glory pained those watching eyes.

"Did you ever witness the like!" awesomely cried Bruno, gazing
like one fascinated. "Who could or would ever believe all that,
even if tongue were able to portray its wondrous beauty?"

"What a place that would be for popping corn!" contributed Waldo,
practical or nothing, even under such peculiar circumstances. "If
I had to play poppy, though, I'd want a precious long handle
to the concern!"

More intensely interested than ever, Professor Featherwit plied
his shutter, taking shot after shot at yonder aerial phenomena,
feeling that future generations would surely rise up to call him
blessed when the results of his experiments were once fairly